In the Name of the Crown
by writingismysuperpower
Summary: Adeline, chased by guilt and the darkness of her mistakes, has a chance encounter with the Kings and Queens of Old. Together, they must test the boundaries of loyalty and sacrifice. In the end murderers must be brought to justice, kingdoms must be defended, and love must conquer all. Features all the old favorite characters, with a few new faces. All rights to C.S. Lewis.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey there. So, I've rewritten this story. Not completely- in fact, if you were able to read it before I took it down for editing, then much of the first few chapters will probably seem very familiar to you. I have changed come significant minor details though, and I really hope it works. I've grown to love this story. I promise to do better about updating regularly. Don't forget to review!**_

_**All rights to C.S. Lewis**_

/

The knock sounded on the heavy oak door before it creaked open softly.

"Miss Adeline. The Queen would like a word."

The young woman turned from where she stood at the long worktable, wiping the polish off of her hands with a clean rag.

"Is Her Majesty in her sitting room?"

The servant nodded, and after thanking him she reached for her sword that lay on the table behind her. Inspecting it closely, she deemed it clean enough and slid it into the sheath that hung from her belt. She quickly checked her clothes for stains or tears; her simple tunic and trousers were hardly fancy, but they were clean, so she headed out the door and down the corridor.

It was not at all unusual for her to be summoned for an audience with the Queen. She wasn't nervous, but she did wonder. She was hardly ever called in the middle of the day like this. She tried to quiet her thoughts as she hurried to the Queen's private sitting room. Pausing to catch her breath and curtsy quickly, she took her familiar seat and watched as the two women before her fell silent. Gradually, she became uncomfortable with their scrutiny and finally asked, "What is it?"

Queen Isabella of the Archenlands had a face that was made for smiling. Her deep green eyes and chestnut hair had won her the reputation of a beauty in her youth, and though the years had been long, and not without difficulty, she had aged well. There were few lines to be found in her round face, and even then they only appeared when she smiled. She did so at Adeline's question, turning to her daughter at the same time.

"Do tell her, Gwen dear. It's rather exciting news."

Princess Gwen greatly resembled her mother, except for her eyes. She had King Fitzgerald's deep brown eyes that seemed to warm up a soul from the inside out. But her creamy complexion, slender yet shapely figure, and melodious laughter were all her mother's. Suitors had travelled from far and wide for the past three years, but the princess had only just celebrated her nineteenth birthday. Her parents encouraged her to take her time, marrying for her heart rather than for the kingdom.

For some reason, she appeared nervous, which only served to intensify Adeline's curiosity. Gwen glanced at her mother, who gave her another smile and an encouraging nod, and then she finally spoke.

"How would you feel about travelling to Calormen?"

Adeline blinked.

"Calormen? What on earth would you want to go there for?"

The Princess took a deep breath before continuing.

"I've recently received a marriage proposal from the Tisroc, and Father wishes for me to address it in person."

Adeline tried very hard not to let any of the panic she was feeling show through, but she had to make sure, after all, Gwen was as good as her sister, she couldn't just stand back and let her marry the Tisroc of Calormen. He was easily old enough to be her father, not to mention that Calormens were, for lack of a better term, heathens. A soft chuckle snapped her back to the present, and she looked up to identical expressions of amusement on the other women's faces.

"Addie, I would never dream of agreeing to marry the Tisroc," Gwen giggled, "but I'm in agreement with Father. A gentle refusal given directly would have less of a chance of offending the Tisroc, and I must admit I'm looking forward to this trip. It's my first diplomatic affair to handle completely on my own; Father said it's to last a month or two."

Looking to the Queen for a moment, Adeline mulled over the idea. She knew the idea was a good one, and the King would never send his daughter alone if he hadn't first given it great thought. She heard herself asking, "How many guards?"

"Besides you? Not a great many; I don't want to give the impression that I'm afraid for my life while I'm a guest at Tashbaan Hall."

When Adeline remained silent for several more long moments, Isabella broke in gently.

"Addie, dear, you mustn't feel obligated to go. If you feel your father can't do without you for that long then there are other guards. You are, of course, our first choice, and we wanted you to be aware so you can make your decision."

Adeline was silent for a moment as she thought. Her father would be better off learning not to depend on handouts from the castle any longer; she'd been trying to think of a reason to diminish the number of food baskets she took down to the village anyhow. This might be the perfect opportunity. Even as she found herself thinking this, she was aware that she'd likely go with Gwen regardless of her father's situation. The town drunk could only expect so much charity.

She voiced none of her musings, however, and simply stated, "When do we leave?"

Gwen's smile grew double in size, and launched into the time they would depart and what suitable clothes Adeline would need to bring along and did she think they should bring their horses or arrive by carriage or did she suppose there would be any feasts and if so what if there was dancing?

Somewhere in the tirade Adeline looked over to see the Queen laughing quietly at her daughter's ill-disguised enthusiasm. Shaking her head, Adeline reached over and hugged her friend, cutting her off mid-sentence. She pulled back slightly and spoke with her own laughter tinting her words.

"I'll be ready days in advance; you know how I over-prepare for everything. And I think it would be nice to take our horses along for riding, even though we'll probably take most of the journey in the carriage. But I also think that if you don't relax a little, you'll never survive to see Calormen and so all your fretting and ranting will have been for naught."

Gwen grinned sheepishly, and promised to try and calm down, and with that the three women were off making arrangements for the upcoming journey.

/

"You have your light ballgown? It's dreadfully hot, Gwen, dear, you mustn't go about indecent but try to be as comfortable as possible. Adeline, do make sure she sleeps with all the drapes drawn, I've heard the nights there can get quite cold and the last thing we need is for Gwen to be coming home with a case of pneumonia. And be sure-"

"Aslan's mane, Izzy. Addie will take good care of our girl, don't you worry. She always does." The booming voice of King Fitzgerald shook with suppressed laughter. He reached to embrace his daughter, kissing her temple before helping her into the waiting carriage. He then turned to Adeline, who returned his embrace warmly.

"Look after yourself as well, Addie," he whispered. The young woman nodded against his shoulder, pulled back, allowed the Queen to hug her one last time, and lithely stepped into the carriage, one hand grasping her bow and quiver. The servants shut the door, the coachman shouted to the horses, and with a few creaky lurches, the Princess and her companion were en route on their very first diplomatic mission.

Six hours later, they stopped at an inn for a bit of respite. The innkeeper showed them to a private washroom, where there were basins of cool water to wash off the dust and grime of travel. Adeline reached and pulled her golden hair atop her head, allowing the back of her neck access to the soft breeze that blew in the window. It felt so wonderful that she pulled the waist-length tresses in front of her shoulder and set to work braiding it, tying off the end with a leather strap she kept wrapped around her wrist for such purposes. Turning to Gwen, who had been drying off her face with a clean towel, she spoke quietly so as not to be overheard by the servants.

"Are you nervous?"

Gwen slowed her movements and caught her friend's eye in the mirror.

"Yes. But I know I'm ready. How are you faring?"

Adeline shrugged before answering honestly.

"There's really not any more pressure on me than what I'm already used to. This is the first time your safety has depended entirely on me, but I've always taken this position seriously, Gwen. It's not much different this time."

Gwen had to agree with that. For the past thirteen years, Adeline had been her constant companion, both while travelling as well as at home. As the girls grew older, Addie had been trained for combat as thoroughly as the King's own private guard. Gwen had never had an inkling of doubt of her loyalty or capability to protect her, but she also knew that Adeline was at times ridiculously harsh with herself when she felt she had jeopardized Gwen's safety. Nothing had ever happened – or even come close to happening, for that matter – but while Adeline was forgiving and gracious to others, she more than made up for it when it came to herself.

"Father and Mother would not have allowed us to come without them if they weren't certain you could protect me. I have no doubts either – I never have."

Adeline nodded modestly at the subtle compliment, but the slight flushing of her cheeks spoke volumes of her appreciation. Gwen grinned, set down the towel, and linked her arm through the other girl's.

"Now come. I'm positively famished, and that stew they had cooking smelled wonderful."

/

"Peter! Come quickly!"

Peter Pevensie groaned even as he clambered to his feet and broke into jog, heading for the back door of the stately brick building. Students of various ages sat all around the back lawn; a few turned to watch Peter approach his brother.

Edmund's dark eyes were frustrated as he held out a letter, having to lean slightly from the top of the veranda steps where he stood so Peter could reach the paper. He looked down at Peter for a moment, and then decided he might as well warn him of the letter's contents.

"It's from Aunt Alberta."

Peter's head shot up, his eyes rounded in surprise even as he read the truth, written in the scowl that adorned his brother's face.

"How many times are we going to have tell her? I'm _not _having you and Lucy move in with them; Eustace is horrid and in any case I think the best thing for all of us is to stay together. That's always how we handle things. What makes her think separating us will do any good?"

"She wants you and Susan to immigrate to America. Once you're financially stable then she'll feel it safe enough to send me and Lu.

Peter normally tried to set a better example for his younger siblings, but he couldn't suppress the eye-roll upon hearing his aunt's latest scheme. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie had been killed in a freak Underground accident just six months ago, and ever since their aunt had been unmerciful in her fretting. At first the four of them appreciated it, since it was nothing more than a quick letter, letting them know they could pop in if they ever needed to. Recently, however, the open invitations had morphed into insisting that they come and visit. Peter's stomach rolled at the mere thought of walking off and leaving his brother and sister in that house.

He crushed the letter in his fist, determining to toss it into the rubbish bin at the first opportunity.

"She's mental if she thinks I'd ever off and leave you two. Right now we don't need a bothersome aunt. We need each other. Why can't she see that?"

His voice had started out angry, but by the time he finished he sounded tired, and – to Edmund's surprise – he sounded _old_. The younger man took a closer look at his brother; he wasn't but twenty-five, and certainly looked young to most people. But Edmund had seen his brother lead armies, battle tyrants, rule a country, settle peace treaties, and that was all before he returned to England to attend university so – as their teachers had phrased it - he could "make something" of his life. He shook his head at the irony of it all. He saw the age, the experience in Peter's eyes. He remembered how light they used to be, after they returned to Professor Kirk's house through the wardrobe. Even then they all returned to their childhoods fairly easily.

But now, after returning again from helping Caspian to claim the throne, it was as if they'd been completely uprooted. Edmund often felt like his world had been turned wrong side out, but made to look like it was supposed to be that way. Every so often Edmund would catch a glimpse of the Magnificent King, usually whenever Peter had to make a decision for the whole family. He could see snatches of Susan the Gentle when she had to settle arguments between the four of them. And Lucy- well, Edmund thought, smiling to himself, Lucy had never really stopped being valiant. She just got more credit for it in Narnia than she did here in England.

"Look, Aunt Alberta is just trying to help, Pete. Let's forget about the letter and go meet the girls for lunch, yeah?"

Peter nodded, knowing his brother was right. He couldn't let the well-intended offer make him a grump for their afternoon outing with their sisters. It was their first one since their parents' deaths; he supposed it was considered improper not to grieve longer than they did, but honestly, their parents were near strangers to him. Lucy had been understandably affected the most. But even she had felt distant ever since their last return to England. Now, however, he knew that all four of them were ready to move on, so the rest of society could think what they liked. He was long past caring.

Lost in thought, Peter rounded a corner just ahead of his brother and walked straight into a young woman, nearly sending her toppling to the floor. He was quick to steady her, and was rewarded with a bright smile that he returned. Continuing down the hall towards the front door, he heard a derisive snort from behind him. Good naturedly, he stuck his foot out and pretended to trip Edmund.

"I don't want any jokes made about that. I was just being a gentleman."

"Oh, I wasn't on about that."

"No? Then what are you snorting about?"

"That sappy smile she gave you. All the girls love to catch your attention, and you eat it up as though it's your daily bread. It's nauseating."

In spite of himself, Peter felt his neck and ears turn a bright red. His brother could always push his buttons.

"I do not _eat it up_; I'm just friendly. And anyway, can you really fault me for noticing a pretty girl?"

"I just think it's funny that every time a girl walks by you have to open every door and laugh at every joke. You don't treat your sisters that way."

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but they were already on the sidewalk heading to pick up the girls for luncheon. He settled for a condescending eye-roll which lost half of its effectiveness since he was trying and failing not to laugh, and made another turn, catching sight of his two sisters waiting for them on a bench near the park. The boys picked up their pace, anxious to see them after a long week of classes and studying. Susan and Lucy were engrossed in a conversation of their own, but when the latter caught sight of her brothers her face brightened and she got up quickly, meeting them halfway with a hug for each of them. Susan followed suit, and the four of them walked to a nearby café with tables outside surrounded by flowers.

The next two hours passed in a flurry of laughter and story telling, with frequent teasing from Edmund, the gentle and caring inquiry of Susan regarding their studies, the solid, comforting presence of Peter as he assured them all that he wasn't leaving once he found a job, and Lucy's bubbly, contagious excitement at starting university in the fall. The one subject the four of them longed to speak of the most was constantly in the backs of their minds, yet none of them ventured forth, all for different reasons. Peter saw no purpose in dampening everyone's spirits with a reminder that he and Susan would not return. Susan felt the same, and she also felt that they were all finally adjusting to life here in England after six difficult years. Edmund found it hard to speak of their other world without imagining his older siblings there, and Lucy simply wanted to weep whenever she thought of Trumpkin not being there next time she went, if she ever went at all.

At long last, they paid the bill and set off down the street to their small flat. They hadn't managed to keep much of their parents' things, but they each got one keepsake when they had relocated out of the cottage they'd lived in all their lives. Peter unlocked the door, standing aside to let the others through. Lucy immediately collapsed on the sofa.

"I think I ate too much," she giggled, even as she moaned slightly and held her stomach.

"Well, we know that's just like you," Edmund teased, "You always eat enough for three people."

His sister smacked him with a pillow.

"That's rich coming from you, Mr. I-Must-Inhale-All-The-Toast-Before-Narnia-Runs-Out -Of-It."

A deafening silence settled upon them; she'd finally mentioned what they all most wanted to talk about, but none of them knew exactly how to go about it.

At long last Edmund spoke quietly.

"I'm happy here, truly I am, but I must admit to missing it sometimes."

The others said nothing, but he could see his words echoed in their faces. He slowly stood, and loosened his tie as he walked to his room. The others remained in the living room, lost in remembrances of the clang of swords and battle cry of centaurs and the way the Lion's mane rippled in the wind and the way His roar had boomed from across the river-

"Oi!"

Edmund's sudden call startled Peter out of his reverie. He slowly made his way to the doorframe, the girls crowding around him to see what their brother wanted.

Their brother, it turned out, was much too shocked to tell them anything. He stood, white-faced, pointing to his bedroom wall.

Or, rather, what had been his bedroom wall.

A door had appeared, one of a rich, dark wood, highly polished and ornately carved and engraved with trees and flowers. Peter had a strong feeling he'd seen it somewhere, but he was also certain there hadn't been a door in that spot before, and he was just opening his mouth to ask Edmund a question when he heard Lucy gasp.

Never noticing the three sets of eyes trained on her, Lucy took a couple of steps towards the door, her eyes huge in her young face. If Peter hadn't been looking at her so intently, he would not have heard the whisper that came a moment later.

"It's the wardrobe."

All four of them were frozen in absolute shock, partly from the sheer surprise of it all, and partly because they knew she was right. It was exactly like the wardrobe door from the Professor's house; one large tree in the center, with other such carvings all around. Even the handle was the same.

"What does this mean?" came Susan's quiet voice.

"I think if you and Peter can both see it, that means you're to come back with me and Ed," stated Lucy in her most logical voice. "I don't really see a purpose in allowing you two to watch us return without coming along. Even if you've been told that you're not coming back, it's rather obvious that something's happened there, and they need all four of us. I mean, we've never been brought back without being needed in some way."

No one ever considered ignoring the obvious beckoning; Lucy was right in saying that every time they had been called, they had been needed. To flatly refuse to acknowledge this would be to turn their backs on their people.

_Once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen_.

Suddenly Peter sprang forward and reached for the knob. He half expected Susan, or at least Edmund to cry for him to wait, to think it through logically, but to his surprise they all followed him through the door. They all shuffled inside, and instantly the door shut behind them. It was pitch dark, but Peter felt his way along the walls until they found some sort of bracket. Fingering along in the blackness, he realized it was torch. Quickly he rummaged through his bag, finding the matches and lighting one. The soft glow of the torch illuminated his three siblings standing near him, blinking at the sudden light. They all took a moment to observe their surroundings; the walls, ceiling, and floor were all smooth, worn stone caked with mud and age. There was a sudden breeze, and Peter caught whiff of something that sent his mind reeling. It smelled of apples, of the forest, and of the sea. Could it be possible?

"I think we should go back now," came Susan's shaky voice from beside him. He glanced at her and realized she was thinking the same thing he was. Nodding reluctantly, he turned to open the door again and gasped.

The door was gone. In its place was only stone identical to the rest of the chamber or tunnel or whatever it was they were standing in; Peter didn't have a clue as to where they were or what they were to do next. He also had no idea of what to think. Here he'd been told he was not to return to Narnia, yet where else would they be?

He looked at the others and saw identical expressions of shock on their faces. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and then spoke in the eerie quiet.

"Well, I suppose we're back."

/

_**Well, hope you liked it! Let me know please – even flames are welcome as long as it has something to do with my writing. PLEASE leave a review or PM me. Thanks for reading!**_

_**-K**_


	2. Chapter 2

The thing about arriving in magical land unannounced, Peter mused, was that nobody tended to believe you when you told them who you were. It would seem that claiming to be the Four Kings and Queens of Old was considered a sign of mental instability among these parts. He shook his head slightly as he led his bedraggled siblings out of the village gates, away from the jeers and coarse laughter of the people gathered in the open square.

He could practically feel Edmund's simmering glare from ten feet behind him. Sure enough, he glanced over his shoulder just in time to call, "Ed…" warningly. The younger Pevensie had just opened his mouth to shout something back at the villagers, and while Peter more than sympathised with his frustration, the very _last_ thing they needed was an angry mob chasing them.

Edmund settled for deepening his scowl, glaring at the endless dusty road before them.

"Well, we can't exactly help that we don't know where our armor is. Would it hurt them to give us a chance? They could at least tell us where the blazes we are."

Susan sighed.

"I don't really think we're going to be getting much help any time soon. Although I do wish they'd at least been civil."

"Well, think of it as a test," Lucy said bracingly.

Peter, grateful that his position meant the others couldn't see his face, rolled his eyes.

Edmund, apparently, didn't care if they could see his facial expressions or not. He gave a derisive snort, and then proceeded to march along in stony silence for the next forty-five minutes. Not that any of them were much better- very little conversation was made as the shadows grew long and the pale blue of the sky began to streak with gold rays.

Peter forced himself to contemplate their sleeping arrangements for the night, and the plan for the following day. He supposed they would follow this road till they found another town. They'd arrived six days ago, without any idea where they were. The tunnel that the door had led them to went for just under a mile before going uphill and opening out into a cave in the side of a long ridge of stone in the midst of a dense wood.

Nothing in the vicinity looked familiar in the slightest, but Susan had found a good-sized stream and where there is water, there will be people. They'd followed the stream for almost a week, eating roots and mushrooms and such just to get by.

Peter had found a stout fallen branch that served as a club and had taken turns with Edmund keeping watch through the night. They were managing, but the thought of having no weapons, no help, and no way of getting either was very sobering.

Peter had resigned himself to yet another night of sleeping on the cold, hard earth, keeping watch with a stick instead of a sword, when a sudden breeze stopped him right in his tracks.

"What is it?" Lucy asked.

"Do you smell that?" answered Peter, sniffing eagerly.

The others followed suit, and a moment later they were tramping off the road and through the woods, letting the unmistakable scent of wood smoke guide them.

They came upon the clearing sooner than anticipated, but once they'd broke through the last line of trees they all stood for a moment, taking in the sight before them. A small, modest cabin was nestled in among some pines, with a well dug not far from the door. There was a garden, and a dirt path leading to the large, rambling barn that sat on the other side of a lush pasture that was being grazed by several sheep. Chickens pecked around in the dirt by the doorstep, cows could be heard through the open doors of the barn, and as they watched Lucy felt tears prick behind her eyes. The whole scene was so homey, and homey was not a feeling she'd experienced in a very long time.

Her emotions were swiftly forgotten, however, when a burly man stepped out of the cabin. He noticed them almost immediately, and started his way over to them. Peter and Edmund both stiffened, although nothing about this man seemed threatening. He came to a stop just before them, looking them over critically, and when he spoke Lucy wanted to cry again at the kindness in his tone.

"You lot be 'ungry?"

Peter's shoulders sagged slightly in relief.

"Yes, sir. We've come a long way."

A small smile split the weathered face of their savior, and with a small gesture of his head he led them all to the house.

/

"Adeline!"

Her head jerked up instinctively, finding the Princess on the far side of the courtyard. She excused herself to the servant with whom she'd been talking and made her way over to Gwen's side. The latter's face practically glowed with excitement, and Adeline suppressed a groan. _Here we go_, she thought, _another outing or tour or ancient ruin that we simply have to see during our visit_.

"Addie, this Lord Xaviar. He's a distant cousin of mine on Mother's side. He is visiting like we are, but was not aware that we would be here."

Adeline turned her attention to the tall, powerfully-built figure that flanked Gwen's other side. The man was the very definition of handsome; tan skin, lean frame topped with broad shoulders. Sculpted features gave him the look of royalty, while his eyes were kind and interested. She swept into a deep curtsy, appalled at the fact that her collarbone felt hot. The very idea, a perfect stranger having the ability to make her blush! She was grateful that the neckline of her dress came up to her throat, hiding the evidence from a Gwen's view.

As she returned to her full height, Xaviar took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss on the back, then turned those ridiculously green eyes to her face. As he did so he smiled, revealing a full set of perfect white teeth, and Adeline swore her heart skipped a beat.

_Ugh_.

"Lady Adeline? _The_ Lady Adeline? I've heard tremendous stories about you, my lady. It is truly an honor to meet you at last."

Gwen looked positively delighted with his words, and the blush crept all the way up to Adeline's face. She knew if the princess spotted any more signs of infatuation Adeline would have the interrogation of her life the moment they were alone. Still, the man's words were kind, and required a proper response.

Carefully ignoring the fact that she could still feel his hand enveloping hers, and that her skin was actually burning where his lips had touched, she gave a small laugh.

"Thank you my lord, but if I were you I would question the authenticity of such tales. I highly doubt anything I've ever done could be rightly described as tremendous."

"Oh, you weren't joking when you said she was modest," Xaviar chuckled, glancing at Gwen. "Well, perhaps you would care to set the record straight as you give me a tour of the palace? Apparently coming with actual royalty means you get the _actual_ tour; when I arrived I was only shown where the dining hall, my room, and the library were located. I've been reluctant to explore on my own."

Gwen let a small laugh of her own escape, even as Adeline desperately tried to think of a way out of going anywhere with this man, because she was one more charming smile away from tripping over the perfectly smooth flagstone floor. Then she heard Gwen speak, and struggled not to choke on her own saliva as the princess informed Xaviar that she couldn't possibly give a tour at the moment, as she was needed elsewhere, but Addie was just a _dear_, and she was sure that Addie would just _love_ to show him around, and the three of them would meet for luncheon at noon. Gwen swept off, looking absurdly pleased with herself, before Adeline could even formulate a response, and she turned very slowly to face Xaviar.

_Right_, she told herself firmly, _he's cousins with Gwen. Nothing to worry about – he's obviously a nice fellow, and there's nothing about him that warrants a reaction from you._

She glanced up just in time to see the man in question run a hand through his dark hair distractedly, his gaze on nothing in particular. Without even realizing what she was doing, her eyes ran from his head all the way down to his feet and back up again. When she reached his face she jumped - at least five inches off the ground – as she found his eyes boring into hers, watching her blatant scrutiny with a small smile.

_Good job, Addie. Really stellar work, that was._

There was precious little hope of hiding her blush now. Her whole face might as well have been on fire.

She opened her mouth, but no words came. He ended up rescuing her by asking where she would like to start. Taking the lifeline, she led him off into the corridors of Tashbaan Hall, making a mental note to give a certain match-making princess a scolding she wouldn't soon forget.

/

Edmund was tired. No, scratch that, he was beyond tired. Exhausted, weary, dead-on-his-feet were all much better descriptions.

They'd arrived at the farm earlier that afternoon, and once the meal the stranger had prepared for them had been eaten, he had informed them that his name was Amos, and that he had chores outside that needed doing; the loft had two double beds they were welcome to use, and he'd be sure to wake them up in time for supper. It was a simple speech, and Amos's vernacular didn't reveal much education, but the kindness that a perfect stranger was showing was more than enough for Edmund and his siblings.

Perhaps that was what had prompted Peter and Edmund both to push to their feet, following Amos out the door to the barn. He'd looked surprised, but also seemed to understand that arguing would get him nowhere. The threesome had worked in easy silence until sundown, and when they returned to the cabin it was obvious that the girls had been busy as well. The floor had been swept, all the cobwebs and dust were nowhere to be found, and the smells coming from the enormous old stove were heavenly to Edmund's miserably empty stomach.

Amos had surprised them all; he'd had to swallow several times before he could get a thick, yet sincere thank-you out. The food had not been fancy, but it was still one of the best meals they'd ever had.

Now, oddly enough, Edmund couldn't fall asleep. He knew he needed it, what with keeping awake half the night for the past week, and then he'd hauled water and chopped wood and toted grain and weeded the garden and other such farm chores that his body simply wasn't used to. But his mind had other ideas, and he finally gave up and climbed quietly down the crude ladder into the kitchen.

To his surprise Amos already sat at the table, a lantern burning low beside him. He held a mug of tea between his hands, and when he spotted Edmund he rose silently to fetch him one as well.

Edmund sat, sipping the warm brew in silence; Amos appeared to be in deep thought, and when he spoke it was almost absently.

"Trouble sleepin', son?"

"Yes, sir. I can't think why, but I suppose my mind just isn't ready to go to sleep yet."

Nodding in understanding, the farmer replied, "Aye, that's the way it be sometimes. The body is bone-weary, but the mind is just gettin' started. Nights like that I just come in 'ere, have some tea, and if that don't work then I do the best I can in the mornin'. Daylight comes early round 'ere."

Not sure what to say, Edmund nodded and took another sip.

"The four of you- you're family, right?"

"Yes. Peter is the eldest, then Susan, then me, then Lucy."

"Where's your folks, son?"

Edmund opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He swallowed, hard, and tried again.

"They died about six months ago. Freak tr-carriage accident."

The look in Amos's eyes startled Edmund; there was sympathy, but not the pitying kind he'd become so used to in England. It suddenly hit him that this man, who opened his home to strangers and obviously worked hard, had experience pain very similar to his own. The realization made him blurt the first thing that came to his mind:

"Do you have a family?"

Wincing, Edmund heard the nosiness in his own question. He'd just started to apologize for prying but Amos, after contemplating his tea for a moment, answered quietly.

"Yeah. Or, rather, I _had_ one. Valley fever came through couple'a years back. Took my wife, and the twins – one boy and one girl. Three years old, they were. Left me alone, with this farm."

It took a moment for Edmund's voice to start working again.

"I'm-I'm terribly sorry for your loss, sir. I wish there was something we could do."

A wry smile twisted the older man's face, although his eyes remained sad.

"Me too, son, but there's not a bit o'sense in that thinking. All we can do – any of us – is do the best we can with the lot we're given. Wishing things was different might be natural, but it just make you feel worse in the long run. I'm willin' to wager your folks wouldn't want any of ya to mope around, bemoaning what your lives are now."

It was the longest string of words Edmund had heard from him in the short time they'd been here. He took another sip of tea, and decided that this chap could be trusted.

"I need to ask you something; it's going to sound odd at first but I promise I'll explain."

At Amos's encouraging nod, he continued, "Where exactly are we?"

"The Western Archenlands, 'bout three days from the Calormen border."

_The Archenlands?_

"Right, then," shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, "did you happen to hear about the return of the Narnian Kings and Queens to help Prince Caspain?"

"Aye, that caused quite a stir, that did," Amos chuckled. "That were 'bout three years past."

Edmund leaned forward intently, his half-empty mug of tea quite forgotten.

"You mean to tell me it's only been _three years_?"

Nodding bemusedly, Amos watched as Edmund stood up so fast his chair knocked over, taking the ladder two rungs at a time, all the while bellowing at the top of his lungs, "_Peter!_"

Within the next ten minutes, all four of them stood chattering around the kitchen table, almost unable to believe it. Three years, not thirteen hundred. All their friends were still here, not long gone as it was last time.

Amos sat in midst of the chaos, utterly baffled at the sudden change in his guests, until finally Lucy noticed him and said, "Oh! We've forgotten to explain to Mr. Amos; Peter, you'd best tell him."

It took a little convincing for Amos to believe they were the Kings and Queens of Narnia, but it took the four of them the better part of half an hour to stop him from standing and bowing to each of them.

"But your Majesties, I don't wish to be dishonorin' any of ya -"

"Mr. Amos, we promise you haven't offended us. You've shown us such great kindness we can't ever repay you." Lucy broke in softly, but her voice was pleading.

Edmund had to suppress a smile; any man that could look at Lu's big blue-gray eyes and not want to give her the moon was made of stone. Amos appeared to be struggling with the idea, but he finally agreed to allow them to help him with the last of the harvest.

"Once that's over, then, I'll escort you to King Caspian meself. I'm sure there's some important Narnian business Aslan's brought you back to tend to. But for now," he added, standing and placing his and Edmund's mugs in the dishpan, "we all had better try and get some rest afore that sun comes up."

Edmund followed the others up the ladder and climbed into the bed beside Peter, all the while trying to grasp the discovery of the past hour and a half. It seemed unreal; only a week ago he was revising for exams at the university and bickering with Susan about whose turn it was to clean the kitchen. Now, he was helping with the summer harvest on a small Archenland farm, and in just over a fortnight he would be walking the halls of Caspian's palace.

Even as he stretched beneath the covers, he knew that sleep, for him, was miles away.

/

_**Soooo…..what do you think? Not much Adeline in this one, but I promise the plot will thicken within the next few chapters. The foundation for a story can be quite boring, but it's necessary nonetheless. Hope you liked it! Thanks a bunch for reading!**_

_**-K**_


	3. Chapter 3

"Absolutely not."

"But, Addie, you must!"

"I'm _not_ going, Gwen."

The princess marched along after her bodyguard, who was walking quickly down the corridor to her room. She went straight through the door, leaving her quiver and sword on the table just inside, and proceeded to sit down on the edge of the bed with stately grace. Adeline kept her chin resolutely high, but not so high as to make Gwen think she was angry.

She wasn't angry, she was terrified. She was also determined not to make an utter mockery of herself.

Gwen, who had a reputation throughout several countries for possessing an extraordinarily large amount of patience, let out an exasperated huff.

"Why don't you want to go? It's not as if you'll be on display; this is a ball being held in honor of our visit. _I'll_ be drawing everyone's eye tonight just by being there."

_Yes, everyone's eye except for one man, _Adeline thought darkly. _ And I have a tendency of staring at him and tripping over flat surfaces and forgetting what my name is when he's around, so I'd rather his eye not be on me tonight._

"Addie?" Gwen's quiet voice shook Adeline from her thoughts.

"Do you like Lord Xaviar?"

Adeline stared intently at the floor, memorizing the pattern of the rug near her bed. She had essentially two options here: Lie, which would hurt Gwen tremendously, not to mention it was pointless because she wouldn't be asking if she didn't already know, or she could be honest and tell her closest friend that yes, she liked Lord Xaviar, and the degree to which she like him scared her senseless.

Knowing she had to say something, she finally nodded her head ever so slightly and whispered, "Yes."

She half expected Gwen to squeal and drag Adeline to the closet to pick out a beautiful gown for the feast; what she didn't expect was for Gwen to come and sit beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders.

"Addie, did you think you would be expected to take care of me until you're old and gray?"

She looked at Gwen; there was no laughter in her eyes, only concern. She sighed.

"I don't know. I never really thought about it, I suppose. I've never allowed myself to ponder on marriage. Or anything in that category, really. I never dreamed anyone would be interested."

At her last words, Gwen's expression morphed into one of shock.

"Addie, surely you can't mean that. There are servants back home that gladly would ask for your hand, were it not above their station. My cousin is hardly the first man to notice how lovely you are."

It was Adeline's turn to be surprised.

"But…but I'm not lovely. I'm tolerable, I suppose, but next to you I never expected anyone with two good eyes to notice me."

Gwen chuckled before saying, "Adeline, if that is your aim, then you ought to go about in a suit of armor - with the visor _down_ - all the time."

Adeline flushed slightly, but smiled a little too. It was rather funny, she supposed. She was trained in combat, in ensuring the safety of the Princess, but when it came to men she was utterly lost.

"I'm afraid to go the feast, Gwen," she finally admitted, "because I know he's going to be there. I don't know what to do, or what to say, or what if he's not interested, or what if I trip on my gown and fall down the stairs, or-"

Gwen's smile stopped her rant abruptly and she realized how ridiculous she sounded. She laughed at herself before taking a shaky breath and pushing to her feet.

"Alright, I'll go to the ball. Are you happy now?"

Her face split in two with a radiant smile, Gwen stood as well and led the way to the closet so they could find a suitable dress.

Two hours later, and Adeline was sorely regretting her decision. She didn't realize how _long_ it took one to get ready for an event like this. Gwen had the servants come to her room so they could prepare together, and the princess was already waiting, dressed with hair twisted into an elaborate pile atop her head, with jewels glittering on her neck that matched the small crown nestled into her hair. The gown was a deep purple, with gold-colored lace and trimmings. It was not elaborate, but still rich enough to suit a visiting princess. She looked stunning.

Adeline forced herself to sit still while the maid placed the final touches on her hair. It was pulled back from her face, with the rest hanging down her back. Her gown was a medium blue, with a simple design. There was a small strand of pearls at her neck. She felt overdressed and conspicuous, but Gwen grinned at her before thanking the servants and leading Adeline out into the corridor.

As they neared the top of the staircase that would take them to the main hall, they saw the Tisroc and a few of his attendants waiting for them. As they approached the Tisroc looked at Gwen with admiration he did nothing to hide; it was borderline inappropriate and made Adeline long for her dagger, but aside from causing an international incident there was little to be done. He had already come and claimed Gwen's hand, leading her away towards the sound of music and dancing.

Adeline kept a close eye, determined to swoop in if Gwen acted the least bit upset. She had confided in Adeline just the other day that she was certain the Tisroc would bring up his marriage proposal soon. Hopefully he would not become angry at her refusal, but with the Calormens one could never know. Her thought process was broken when she stepped into the hall; bright silks were draped over the impressive columns, the musicians were already keeping the crowds on their feet with quick, fast-paced tunes, and the aromas from the banquet table made her mouth water.

"Lady Adeline."

Startled, she spun quickly to see Xaviar standing behind her, wearing white breeches and a crimson tunic. He was freshly shaved, and she caught a whiff of his clean, musky scent as he bowed deeply before her, the back of his head proving to be every bit as handsome as the front. Fighting back the blush that was already creeping up her neck, she smiled and curtsied in return.

"You look lovely."

She blushed (he must think she suffered from consumption) and managed to squeak, "Thank you, my lord."

He smiled, and there was a moment of awkward silence before the music changed; the lively folk dance being replaced with a stately pavane. Without a moment's hesitation, he held a hand out.

"May I have the honor?"

Without letting herself think about it too much, she smiled and placed her hand in his warm one, and allowed him to lead her out on the dance floor. The dance was a simple one, slow enough to allow conversation while performing the steps, but other than an occasional smile when they turned, little was said.

His grip on her fingers was gentle yet firm, and Adeline caught a glimpse of Gwen watching while chatting with the Calormen nobles. The princess shot her friend a wink, which of course only served to make Adeline blush even more. At last the music ended; she and Xaviar made their way to the edge of the floor as a livelier tune was played.

"You dance very well, my lady."

He stood behind her, and had bent slightly to speak quietly in her ear over the din. The feel of his breath on her ear, tickling the soft wisps of hair that refused to be combed back, was nearly her undoing. She took a deep breath and clenched her hand in the folds of her dress, focusing on forming words articulately.

"As do you, your Grace."

The call to dinner came just then, and Adeline had never been more relieved in all her life. There would be more dancing after the feast, but for now she could relax a little and enjoy the food. She'd immensely enjoyed the Calormen cuisine; the blend of spices and herbs was beyond anything she'd ever tasted before. She was so excited about the food that she failed to notice Gwen sitting across the table from her, or Xaviar to her left. The Tisroc took his seat beside Gwen, obviously forgoing the usual protocol for a separate royal table in favor of remaining near her.

As the meal progressed it became obvious that the Tisroc had every expectation of his proposal being accepted. Adeline found it remarkable that one man could be so confident in himself. She also found it somewhat repulsive.

Gwen was clearly maintaining as much grace with the situation as she could, but Adeline tensed when she heard the Tisroc lower his voice to speak for Gwen's ears alone. Fortunately, he'd either forgotten Adeline was seated near them, or he didn't care, so Adeline was able to keep up with the conversation without too much trouble.

"Princess, have you considered my proposal?"

Gwen paled considerably, and only Adeline's sharp eyes caught the slight tremble of her hand as she set down her fork and took a deep breath.

"Your Excellency, I am afraid I must decline your offer."

There, the words were spoken. Now for the reaction.

To Adeline's shock, the Tisroc nodded slowly.

"I must admit being disappointed, Princess, but nonetheless it is not surprising. I expect the age gap has a great deal to do with your decision?"

Eyes round with surprise, Gwen nodded. "You deserve a wife who would love you unreservedly, my lord. I would not suffice for that role."

A kind smile graced the Tisroc's features; his entire demeanor changed from attracted to polite courtesy, and Adeline was forced to give the man some credit for not forcing the matter. It seemed that the Calormens had some decency in them after all.

"We will speak no more of it, my lady. This is a celebration of your presence; do not let this dampen your spirits."

Gwen's face broke into a smile of great relief, and she nodded again before they all returned to their meal.

Adeline caught her eye, and the look that they exchanged said it all. They would discuss it in great length later, but for now the peace at having the matter settled was enough. There was a feast to enjoy and dancing to be done after they finished eating; the diplomatic affairs would wait.

/

Several hours later the two girls made their way back to Gwen's chambers, giggling and flushed with excitement. The dances after the feast had been so much fun that Adeline had forgotten to be nervous, dancing several times with Xaviar. Gwen was so relieved that the proposal was addressed and had gone so well that the two of them had quite enjoyed themselves. It was late, but Adeline helped Gwen into her nightgown and brushed her hair as they chatted quietly.

Inevitably, the talk turned to Lord Xaviar (it appeared that since Gwen wasn't getting married, she'd seized on Adeline's potential romance out of either amusement or boredom, Adeline wasn't sure which), and Adeline was grateful for the low firelight that hid her flushed cheeks.

"You ought to have seen the way he looked at you, Addie. It was so beautiful. His eyes followed you the entire night; I knew that dress was perfect."

"I had fun, Gwen," Adeline admitted even as she laughed, "and I wasn't expecting to enjoy myself at all."

"Can I ask you something?"

Surprised, Adeline sat back as Gwen turned to face her. She waited, and after a moment Gwen asked, "Do you love him?"

The question made Adeline's eyes widen and she took in a sharp breath; but the most surprising thing to her was how reluctant she was to say no. She was equally reluctant to say yes, however, so she simply shrugged and said, "I'm not sure yet."

That seemed to satisfy Gwen. A content smile lifted her lips and she reached forward to hug Adeline warmly. Shortly after that they said goodnight, Adeline taking a candle down the dim corridor to her own chambers. Once she'd closed the door she realized how weary she was, and she quickly readied for bed and blew out the candle. Her head hit the pillow, and she didn't remember anything past that.

/

Adeline jolted awake suddenly, completely alert and straining her ears for – what, she didn't know exactly. But something was wrong, very wrong, and even if it just was her mind was playing tricks on her, she knew she'd not get a moment's rest until she investigated.

She reached for her housecoat and a lantern, but then she noticed the bright full moon and knew she'd be able to see clearly without a flame. Her door opened silently, and she crept down the corridor, the stone floors ice cold beneath her bare feet. She paused, uncertain of where she was going or why she was going there.

Gwen.

That was it, Gwen must be sick or Adeline had had a dream or something and now she would just pop in and make sure everything was alright and then she'd go back to bed. It had to be past midnight; the silence of the sleeping palace was deafening, ringing in her ears.

As she reached for the door handle on Gwen's room she paused. The door was not quite closed, but she was sure she'd pulled it tightly behind her when she left.

She raised her eyes to the hairline gap between the door and frame, and she felt her heart rise into her throat when she made out a hooded figure standing near the bed; there was something long and silver and wickedly sharp in his hand, and as it caught the moonlight Adeline caught a glimpse of bright red and just as the figure turned to the door Adeline's feet remembered how to work and she charged in the room, one hand going for the handle of the sword and the other for the man's throat.

His free hand, balled into a fist, rammed into her cheek, sending her backwards several steps but her fingers still clutched at his throat; they scraped down to his shoulder where she felt a metal square of some kind, carved ornately and thick and cool against her fingertips. She yanked, thinking it was part of his armor but there was a tearing sound and the square came away in her hand. She held it tightly, with one of the rough corners sticking out between her knuckles, and swung upward with all her strength. She heard the sickening crunch as her fist collided with the man's jaw, felt the metal dig into the flesh, felt the blood spatter on her hand but before she could do anything else he grabbed a fistful of her hair and literally threw her face first into the wall, and then everything went black as she slumped to the floor.

/

The axe hit the block with a dull _thunk_, chips of wood flying as Edmund worked doggedly on the pile beside the cabin. At first he'd found the axe heavy and awkward in his hands, but the longer he worked the better he got; eventually there became a rhythm to the chore, and he discovered that he enjoyed the quiet steadiness of it. The already decent-sized pile had been doubled just in the past hour or so, and Amos had been by recently to tell him it was nearly dinnertime.

Pausing to catch his breath, Edmund let the blade sink into the chopping block and reached for his shirt. He was stripped to the waist under the hot sun, but there was nice breeze and he wasn't too uncomfortable. He used the garment to wipe the sweat from his brow and hands and was reaching for the axe again when Amos came back around the corner of the cabin, his brow furrowed.

"Come and see this."

Curiosity piqued, Edmund followed the irate man back towards the pasture. Peter stood near the far fence, feet splayed as he looked down on a fallen sheep. As they drew closer Edmund saw that there was a small cut on the animal's neck, and that blood had soaked the entire side, making the fleece thick and sticky. The poor creature was bleating weakly, and Amos's scowl deepened just as Peter spoke.

"I've looked at the wound; it's small but very clean and right over a large blood vessel. She either had bad luck near a thorn bush of some sort or someone did this to her intentionally."

"Someone? You think a person did this?" Amos asked, momentarily forgetting his irritation in his surprise.

"Yes, in fact I'm nearly certain. It looks like it's from an arrow, but if it is I don't understand how someone came right up the pasture fence and shot without any of us noticing. It's still quite fresh."

Edmund thought for a moment, then said, "I thought when I went to chop wood you two were going to let them out the back gate, into the forest? You said they sometimes find roots and herbs."

Nodding, Amos replied, "Aye, it's good for 'em to get some variety in feed ev'ry once in a while. But I didn't notice her bleedin' when we brought 'em back in."

"That's because we were trying to find the last one," Peter reminded him.

"There's one missing?" Edmund asked.

"Yes, we still haven't found it. Amos had to go finish the work in the garden while I kept looking for it. There's no trace of it anywhere. I've only just noticed this injured one when I came back into the pasture."

"Well, if someone injured this sheep, who's to say they wouldn't actually kill another?"

Amos and Peter looked at each other, surprised that the possibility had never occurred to either of them.

"You 'ave yourself a point there, Your Majesty. Maybe we ought to look again."

Ten minutes later Edmund was scouring the forest floor, seeing the hoofprints from the sheep and the occasional set of boot prints from Peter and Amos. A speck of red caught his attention, smeared on the leaf of shrub.

He got closer and noticed another set of prints – sheep, by the look of them – that he'd not noticed earlier that led behind a small grouping of trees and then around a short cropping of rock that jutted up through the forest floor. He turned to Peter and Amos, but they were nowhere in sight since they'd split up to cover more ground faster.

Oh well.

He followed the trail up to the base of the rock, and froze. Was it his imagination, or were those horse hooves he heard? The sound was coming from the other side of the boulder, so he silently crept up and peered over the top.

There was a horse, alright, along with its rider: a single figure in a hooded cloak. He noticed a full quiver hung on the saddle horn, with the bow clutched in the rider's hand. As they drew nearer Edmund also caught a glimpse of a sword hanging from the belt, but what was most interesting was the gutted and bled sheep hanging just before the saddlebags.

A sheep thief. Well, that was something he'd never had to deal with before.

_First time for everything_, he mused, and seconds later when the horse drew near the rock he jumped, taking the rider clean out of the saddle and down to the hard ground.

Instantly he knew this was not his brightest idea; for one thing the rider was _tiny_, but very scrappy and fast. Almost before they hit the ground they had managed to give Edmund a very bloody nose, and after they had hit the ground the battle just got worse from there. With little to no effort the stranger pulled his very short legs up over his chest and pushed his knees against Edmund, forcing him off at least two feet away. The moment Edmund's weight was no longer fully resting on him he placed the toe of one boot behind Edmund's neck and pulled, while pushing with his other foot against Edmund's chest. The result: Edmund went flailing to the side, but he managed to grab the ankle by his ear and bring the attacker with him as he rolled near the base of a huge oak. Muscle memory from six years ago finally kicked in, and Edmund was pleasantly surprised to find himself pinning the rider to the ground a few short moments later.

Eventually the fellow stopped squirming and struggling; the hood of the cloak had fallen completely over his face during the fight and Edmund reached up and pushed it back…and promptly stared in utter astonishment at the girl (_girl!_) who lay beneath him on the forest floor.

He noticed several things all at once; one was that for a girl who less than half his size, she fought better and harder than most soldiers he'd ever met during his time as King. Secondly, she was not without injuries herself; there was a nasty purple and green bruise near her hairline. It looked several days old, but there were also a couple of small scratches from where she'd hit some small stones and twigs when he'd tackled her. Thirdly, and perhaps the most profound observation, was that she was _extremely_ pretty. Eyes bluer than the Great Eastern Sea in the summer, with the lightest smattering of freckles across nose and cheekbones that were so perfect and delicate they reminded him of a Renaissance sculpture he'd once seen in a London museum; her hair was matted and dirty and pulled back into a thick braid, but even after all that he could see that the color was a rich gold, like Peter's old crown.

"Are you going to let me up?"

Her voice, tight and irriated, slapped him awake.

_Get ahold of yourself, Ed. You've seen women before, _he thought. Aloud he said,

"That depends. Did you kill a sheep earlier today?"

"So what if I did? I have to eat somehow!"

"Not when that animal belonged to someone else."

She grew quiet at that, looking worried for the first time. Her voice was quiet and humble when she spoke next.

"I didn't know it belonged to someone."

"Well, it's too late for that now, but it does help that you didn't intentionally steal."

He got up, slowly, and pulled her with him, keeping a grip on her upper arm. She apparently thought he was dragging her to her execution or something, because she started babbling the moment she noticed that he wasn't letting go.

"I'll pay for it, sir, just please let me go, I'm truly sorry, I had no idea, but-"

"I'm not the owner. I'll take you to him."

Without further ado they set off back the way Edmund had come, his stride shortened considerably by her small steps. Peter and Amos were nowhere to be found in the trees, so he went through to the pasture and found them both near the barn.

To her credit, the girl wasn't fighting against Edmund's hold or dragging her feet. Her pale face was determined, but when they came to a halt in front of Amos she spoke before anyone else had a chance.

"Which of you owns the sheep?"

Amos stepped forward. "That'd be me, miss."

They watched as she reached into a small leather pouch on her belt and withdrew several gold pieces. She held them out in her palm, and simply said, "Take what I owe you."

Amos reached and slowly closed her fist over the money, his look pensive.

"Still have the meat?"

Surprised, she nodded, still holding the money out uncertainly as though she expected him to change his mind.

"There still be enough for six?"

She nodded again, understanding dawning.

"Yes, sir, there's plenty. Shall I go get it?" She turned her glance to Edmund's grip on her arm, which didn't slacken until Amos said, "He'll take you back to your horse. Bring it here to the barn, and when the meat's cooked we'll all eat together. Go on now."

A short time later the girl led her horse by the reins towards the barn, Edmund carrying the sheep over his shoulders. She had said nothing on the walk back and right at the moment she wasn't even looking at him. He wondered if perhaps he'd seriously injured her. The idea bothered him somehow, so before he could stop himself he blurted, "You're not hurt, are you?"

He'd clearly surprised her; her head jerked in his direction in a way that told him she'd forgotten his presence completely. She shook her head, but he must have looked a bit skeptical because she said, "No, my lord. I'm quite well. But thank you."

The discolored lump on her forehead said that she most definitely _not_ quite well, but Edmund had two sisters and knew better than to argue when a woman was in this sort of mood. He'd have make sure she was alright later.

When they reached the barn Edmund started to set the sheep down so that he could help her take off the heavy saddle, but she unfastened it and lifted it off easily. It shouldn't have surprised him, after all his nose was still quite sore, but she was so petite it was quite easy to forget that she had the strength to bodily throw a grown man through the air with her legs, all while lying on the ground.

He caught himself staring at the way her braid bounced between her shoulders when she walked the horse into one of the stalls; she didn't notice but she put a good three feet between them as they walked to the house. He realized that she might be afraid of him, and he disliked the idea so much that he stopped abruptly, reaching a hand out to her forearm but she instantly drew away as she came to a halt.

She looked very suspicious, unwilling to come within arm's reach, so he contented himself with just talking to her.

"I do not wish for you to be nervous around me. You did no wrong by my friend, so I'm not going to tackle you off your horse again anytime soon."

To his surprise, a wry smile lifted the girl's mouth just the slightest bit.

"I was hoping you wouldn't, my lord. I don't imagine that was much fun for either of us."

"Well, whether or not it was fun, I don't like people to be afraid of me unless they need to be. Since you're not, I'll ask again: Are you hurt?"

"No, I assure you I'm alright."

He couldn't stop his gaze from going to that nasty bump, and she immediately waved a hand dismissively.

"It's several days old, and it doesn't hurt much anymore. And I'm not dizzy so often either, so it's already begun to heal."

That did sound reassuring, but he offered anyway, "My sister is quite competent in home remedies. You might ask her to look at it for you after dinner. She would be more than happy to help."

Another slight smile, this one accompanied by a soft word of thanks, and they turned and covered the remaining distance to the house and the waiting meal.

Dinner, it turned out, was delicious. Edmund had not had mutton since before they'd gone to Professor Kirke's house; and the roasted vegetables that Lucy had prepared vanished quickly. They ate mostly in silence, but after most of the food was gone Amos set his mug down and turned to his newest guest.

"What's your name, lass?"

She hesitated for a moment, then said, "Adeline."

Amos's jaw swung open; he stared at the girl a moment before he said in a strangled voice, "You don't mean…you're not Lady Adeline? _The_ Lady Adeline?"

Another moment's hesitation; her eyes swung around to each of them, resting the longest on Edmund, before she finally answered.

"Yes. I am Lady Adeline."

/

_**I promise I haven't forgotten about this story. It's just slow writing, I suppose. Bear with me, guys, I promise it's gonna get good.**_

_**I did a fair bit of research on old dances; the pavane is, for lack of a better adjective, boring. You basically walk forward, turn around, and walk back the other way while holding your partner's hand. There's a demo on Youtube, and even considering my abysmal lack of coordination I'm pretty sure I could pull off this particular style without any trouble. Still, the style suited the scene, so boring dance it is. It reminds me of something you'd see in one of Jane Austen's novels, but for the purposes of this fic imagine something less England-y and more Narnian-y. **_

_**Also, I know absolutely nothing about sheep, their feeding habits, or the climatic probabilities of there being sheep in Narnia in the first place (Just pretend for that last one) so if there are any sheep experts among you then you may correct me via PM or review, or you can just keep your disdain of my ignorance to yourself as you shake your head ruefully at the screen.**_

_**Random side note: I like to put bits and pieces of myself in my characters. It makes writing easier when I can relate to them. However, I have almost nothing in common with Adeline so far, except for the fact that she got excited about food. That came straight from my heart, guys. If I was in another country at a fancy ball with a buffet table you'd better believe I'd get excited about eating.**_

_**I do love reviews. Leave some, will you? Thanks for reading!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hello again! Just to let you know, this chapter picks up exactly where the previous one left off. So if you need to go back and brush up on what's transpired feel free to do so.**_

_**Also, beware of the heavy use of italics. It's the closest I can get to a sarcasm font. Somebody needs to invent that, pronto.**_

_**Hope you**_** enjoy!**

/

Lucy wasn't sure what to do; Amos looked stunned, so obviously the name Lady Adeline carried some importance, even out here on a backwoods Archenland farm. She looked to her siblings, finding identical looks of confusion on their faces. They all waited, hoping for some sort of explaination.

At last finding his voice, Amos stammered, "My apologies, my lady. I didn't recognize you. You didn't have to share your hunt with us."

"Please, just Adeline," she said softly, almost pleadingly. "Formal titles aren't exactly necessary in a place like this. And it's not a hunt if the animal already is someone else's possession. It was only right that I share; besides, I couldn't have eaten it all by myself before it spoiled. I really am sorry I cost you a sheep, though."

Amos waved the last part aside, saying, "You had no way o'knowin' that sheep belonged to anyone. There's not 'nother farm for miles in any direction, and if you 'ad known you wouldn't 'ave shot it. I could tell that when you tried to pay for it."

Susan leaned forward suddenly, her brow creased with confusion.

"How did Edmund know you were the one who shot it, anyway?"

"It wasn't that hard," Edmund said dryly, "The carcass was hanging across the back of her horse."

Adeline's mouth lifted just slightly as Lucy put in, "Well, I do hope he wasn't rude. Ed, you didn't just walk up to her and ask if she'd stolen that sheep, did you?"

She watched as her brother's ears turned bright pink; Adeline was full-out grinning now in satisfaction at his obvious discomfort.

"Well…erm, actually, we had a slight disagreement before I could ask her anything."

"And by _slight disagreement_ he means that he tackled me off of my horse." Adeline's voice was sarcastic, but it was clear she was amused, not upset. Her smile got even bigger when Susan and Lucy both rounded on Edmund, who (understandably) flinched.

"_You tackled her off her horse?"_

"Eddy, no wonder she's got that lump on her head! How could you? Oh, I hope she fought back, I can't believe you would do that-"

"Hang on," Edmund interjected, raising his hands defensively, "I didn't give her that lump, she said that one's several days old. And I made sure she wasn't hurt before we even got back to the house. _And,_ she most certainly did fight back. My nose is still throbbing, and that was before she almost threw me into a tree. Didn't even use her hands."

"My hands were currently occupied, trying to stop _your_ hands from strangling me." She swiftly retorted, taking a sip of her tea to hide her laughter. "But I think I caused more harm than you did."

"You see," Edmund exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Adeline. "She's the one who could have hurt me, so why am I the one being scolded?"

"Because, if you hadn't been a brute and attacked me in the first place, then this conversation wouldn't be necessary."

Edmund's jaw swung open in outrage as the others enjoyed a good laugh at his expense.

"I like her," Peter announced, setting his mug down as he beamed fondly across the table at the girl. "I like her a _lot_."

Amos chuckled a bit more, much to Edmund's chagrin, before Lucy asked seriously, "Is your head alright, Adeline?"

"It's still sore from time to time, but it's improved so much over the past few days that I really can't complain. Thank you, though."

"What happened to it, anyway?" asked Susan.

The change was instantaneous. All traces of a smile were gone, the twinkle in her eyes that had been so vivid as she'd teased Edmund was replaced with a shuttered look that spoke volumes of pain. Lucy had never seen anyone look like that before.

Susan apparently hadn't, either. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Adeline shook her head slightly, dropping her gaze to the tabletop and wrapping her hands around her mug.

"It's alright; you asked out of concern."

Her voice drifted off, and they waited a moment before she started again.

"It is not an easy or pleasant story to tell." She paused, her jaw clenching for a moment. "I know it must look incredibly suspicious, just showing up at random in the woods, but if it would not be an imposition," she turned to Amos, "I need a place to stay just for a few days. I will cause no trouble, and I'm willing to help out in any way I can."

Amos contemplated her for a moment, before turning to the four siblings seated at his table.

"When did you four need to leave?"

"That depends," Peter answered, "How long would it take us to reach Caspian's castle from here?"

"A'least a week, but he's not using the old fortress as his main headquarters now. He's rebuilt Cair Paravel."

Lucy gasped, turning wide eyes to Susan.

"Su, he rebuilt the Cair! Can you imagine?"

"How long is it from here?" asked Edmund.

Amos shrugged. "Likely a week'n a half, barrin' any setbacks."

"I'm sorry," cut in the newest addition to their little household, "But why do you need to see King Caspian? I'm assuming that's whom you're speaking of?"

"Yes, King of Narnia." Peter said. He hesitated, looking to Edmund, but the latter just shrugged as if to say, _Might as well_.

"Right then, do you know who we are?"

She looked positively baffled, but as her eyes roved over the four of them Lucy saw understanding begin to dawn. She could practically see her mind replaying their conversation, and Lucy was sure she saw Adeline's lips form the words "throne room" before she gasped.

"You….you're the Four. The Kings and Queens of Old, from all the stories."

Peter was obviously pleased that she'd guessed it; he nodded before explaining how they'd come from their other world, and their journey before finding Amos. By the end of it she looked shocked, to say the least, but also contemplative.

The rest of them sat in silence as she chewed her lip, deep in thought. When she did speak, she sounded hesitant, unsure of herself.

"Your Majesties –"

"Now, we can't have that," interrupted Edmund. Everyone looked at him, perplexed until he continued, "Our names are Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. As you said earlier, formal titles aren't much use in these parts. And I think that after sharing a meal around the same table, you can regard all five of us as friends."

The others nodded their agreement, which seemed to please Adeline slightly.

"Alright. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy…and Amos," she added, looking to that man with a hopeful expression, "Would any of you be opposed to my accompanying you to Cair Paravel?"

Peter recovered first. He leaned over the table, looking at Adeline intently.

"I don't mean this to be rude, alright? I just need to make sure before we get roped into anything without knowing." He paused, waiting for her to nod in understanding before he continued, "You're not running from the law, are you?"

She shook her head vehemently. "No, I can tell you that much."

That seemed to be good enough for Peter. He looked to the others for their approval, which was given readily, and turned back to Adeline with a broad smile.

"You're more than welcome to join us."

The relief on her face was incredible. "Thank you."

Lucy was glad; Adeline seemed nice enough, and Peter wouldn't let her travel with them if he didn't trust her.

Still, a little niggling voice in the back of her head asked just what, exactly, they had gotten themselves in for.

/

Peter tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position. They had all gone to bed a couple of hours ago, Adeline fighting him and Edmund relentlessly over who would sleep on the floor. She had reasoned that it made absolutely no sense for two people to give up a double bed so one person could have it. Peter had reasoned that he wasn't about to sleep in a comfortable bed when there was a woman in a bedroll downstairs. Edmund had not reasoned at all, and merely threatened to pull rank and order Adeline to take the bed in the loft.

In the end, Adeline's (unfortunately) logical approach had won. She had flatly refused to take Amos's room, either, so after a solid twenty minutes arguing and another ten persuading Adeline to at least take an extra blanket, they had all finally settled in for the night, and sleep had claimed them all not long after.

Except Peter.

Why, he didn't exactly know. He knew Edmund had had trouble sleeping their first night here, but ever since their days had been long and hard, putting in hours of back-breaking labor, and most nights Peter couldn't remember anything past pulling the blankets up to his chin.

But now, he was wide awake, alert to every creak the house made, every rush of wind through the surrounding trees, and it was for this reason he knew the exact moment a horse whinnied.

Not an unusual sound on a farm, he knew. But this one, for some reason, sounded different. He heard it again, and he realized it was coming from the north, the opposite side of the house as the barn.

_Maybe one of the horses got out_, he thought, and as silently as he could he crept downstairs, stepping over Adeline's sleeping form and making his way to the door.

A sliver crescent moon hung low in the sky, but he stood on the porch and squinted, trying to make out the shape of a horse against the northern tree line. All was silent, and he had just started to take a step off the porch to take a closer look when a hand suddenly clamped over his mouth, dragging him back into the house.

Once the door was shut, he wrenched the hand off and spun around to see Adeline. Either she was a light sleeper, or she hadn't been sleeping in the first place. She pressed a finger to her lips, and he bit back his questions as he watched her move to peek out the shuttered window.

When she turned back to face him, he saw a strange expression on her face: a mixture of determination, fear, and what might have been guilt.

"Go wake the others. Get dressed and come back down here, quickly. Be as silent as possible."

Her instructions, given in what could barely be called a whisper, surprised him, but she was already looking out the miniscule crack in the shutters, giving him no chance to argue.

Five minutes later, all six of them were standing in the kitchen, dressed and wide awake. Lucy's eyes were huge in her pale face, but Adeline offered no apologies or explanations as she turned from her vigil at the window to face them. She had changed clothes herself while Peter was upstairs rousing his siblings.

"I can't offer any explanations now. All I can tell you is that if you do _exactly_ as I say, then everyone will make it out of here alive."

She was still whispering, and now he realized that it was because she was afraid of being overheard; so many questions sprang to Peter's mind that he clamped his lips together to keep from spilling them all out. It was clear that she regretted the situation, for the obvious danger they were now in, but for now she was asking them to trust her.

And as crazy as it sounded, Peter had every confidence that he _could_ trust her; trust her with his life, with the lives of his family, and yes, even Amos's life, since he was already included. He took a deep breath, knowing that if he showed any doubts, then the others would follow suit.

"What would you have us do?"

She shot him a grateful look before gesturing to her saddlebags.

"Pack enough provisions to get us over the Narnian border. Only necessities. Then go to the back door and wait for me."

As soon as she finished she hurried into Amos's room, but the others stood in shock, looking at each other as though expecting someone to pop up and say it was all a dream.

No one did, though, so Peter shook himself out of his daze and turned to gather vegetables and a few fruits. Lucy reached for a few small pots and pans, Susan filled several skins with water, and Amos was helping Edmund pull off a cured side of bacon, wrapping it in clean cloths.

They had just finished when Adeline came back in, but she didn't pause, instead heading straight for the loft. They could hear her moving about softly, doing what they didn't know, but Peter caught the sound of another horse out in the yard and his heart started to pound roughly.

He stood by the back door, a small, inconspicuous portal that was practically hidden by the trees. Which was precisely why, Peter realized, Adeline had instructed them to wait for her here. He hefted the saddlebags in one hand, clasping Lucy's with the other. He squeezed reassuringly.

Adeline suddenly appeared, and Peter noticed for the first time a sword was hanging on her hip. She unsheathed it now, the blade sliding out without so much as the faintest scrape of metal.

She unlatched the door, poking her head out first and looking all around carefully before taking two steps outside, gesturing them all to hurry into the trees. Her sword was held at the ready, keeping watch until Edmund brought up the rear. She followed him into the dense growth, and they stood beneath an ancient pine and tried not to breathe loudly or snap any twigs, watching to see what she would do next.

Adeline started off through the trees, skirting just out of sight from the pasture. They headed along the western edge, aiming straight for the barn. Peter noticed that they never went too close to the edge of the trees, where they could be seen. Whatever was out there, it was definitely something Adeline wished to avoid.

Sooner than Peter anticipated, they arrived at the back side of the barn, and his pulse pounded when he spotted a man in armor sitting on a horse not twenty yards from where they were hiding. Thankfully the soldier was oblivious to their presence, and a few moments later he rode off slowly in the direction of the house.

Edmund turned to Adeline, confused. "What's he doing?"

Her brow was furrowed as she answered slowly, "I'm not sure. I think-"

Her words cut off in a gasp; Peter whirled and watched a flaming arrow fly in a high arc and strike the roof of the house. The solitary flame caught the thatch roof, and the orange and yellow glow quickly spread. Moments later hordes of identical arrows followed, and the six of them stood transfixed as they watched the house go up in a column of fire and smoke.

Adeline sprang into action.

"Edmund, Amos, with me. _Now_."

She turned to Peter, took the saddlebags out of his hand and replaced them with her sword, then turned and ran towards the barn with Amos and Edmund on her heels carrying the rest of their supplies.

Peter gripped the hilt; the blade was smaller than what he was used to, and admittedly he was six years out of practice, but he still kept a sharp eye open, backing his sisters into a tree trunk.

After what seemed an eternity of agonizing waiting, the others reappeared, along with six horses saddled and ready to go. Within moments they were mounted, and without any further words Adeline's steed broke into a fast canter, leading them in a sharp north-western course away from what was left of Amos's farm.

They rode for what had to be hours. The first pink streaks of dawn were fingering their way across the sky when Adeline finally called them to rest in a small clearing.

For a moment no one said anything. No one _could_ say anything, really. But Adeline finally broke the silence, turning first to Amos.

"I'm so dreadfully sorry, Amos. I never intended for that to happen."

That man, bless his soul, looked the girl straight in the eye.

"It weren't but a house. And it wasn't your doin' anyhow."

Adeline looked relieved at this, sending him a small smile before facing Peter.

"I owe you my apologies as well, Peter."

He looked at her for a moment, read the desperation and regret written so clearly on her face; he realized that she now considered their safety her responisibility.

"Adeline, there's not a shred of doubt in my mind that you would have done all in your power to protect us. That means far more to me than unintentionally leading a bunch of rogue soldiers to the farm."

She was past relieved now; she looked to be on the verge of tears. Her hands fidgeted with the reins, and her gaze dropped to her lap as she spoke quietly.

"Those men have been following me for nearly a week. I don't know what they want, or who they are or who they work for. But I truly thought I'd lost them before I came anywhere near you. Obviously I was wrong."

She didn't look up, her hands now clenched around her saddle horn.

"As you can probably guess, it's not safe to go back. I'll take you to King Caspian myself, and once you're safe at Cair Paravel we'll part ways."

Peter frowned a bit at that. "If those men are hunting you, won't they catch you once you leave us?"

"That's a risk I'll have to take."

The words were said so simply, so cryptically. It sounded as though she was arranging a business meeting rather than signing her own death warrant.

"I don't understand." Susan said, "If you're known as Lady Adeline, Caspian ought to have heard of you. And even if he hasn't, you'd still be more than welcome to stay at the Cair until it was safe for you to leave."

"I'm not sure it ever will be safe for me out here, my lady. And you might wish for me to consider you as friends, which I do so gladly, but I can't ignore the fact that the four of you are royal. No matter what happens to me, I cannot allow danger to come so close to you again."

"So, what then?" Edmund jumped in. "We say goodbye at the gates, watch you ride off into the sunset to your own execution? After you just saved our lives?"

Peter was shaking his head before Edmund had even finished. "I'm sorry, Adeline, but there's no way I'm agreeing to that. If you leave the Cair, so will we."

That she hadn't expected them to argue was obvious. Her mouth hung open slightly, and she looked back and forth between the four of them in disbelief. Amos spoke up from the edge of their little circle.

"No use, lass. Stubborn as mules, they are. There's no chance of 'em letting you ride off by yourself, not after seein' what those soldiers did back there."

Her look turned a bit apprehensive, but all she said in reply was, "We can discuss this later. For now, we should keep riding."

Peter shot Edmund a look the moment she'd turned to leave the clearing. He knew that his brother was thinking the exact same thing:that no matter what happened between here and Narnia, this girl wasn't going anywhere without them.

/

"My lord. It is done."

He turned to the messenger, standing in the open doorway.

"You are certain? He is dead?"

"He took refuge in a farmhouse in the western Archenlands. The men burned the house to the ground."

He frowned a bit at that, fingering the deep scar on the underside of his jaw. The wound was still fresh, and at times quite sore, reminding him of how close he'd come to being discovered that night in Tashbaan.

He cursed himself yet again for his own stupidity; the stranger had come out of nowhere, and even with the bright full moon he hadn't caught a glimpse of their face well enough to recognize who it was. He'd been fearful that the struggle had been overheard, and fled the princess's chambers without even pausing to look at the unconscious form on the floor. By the time he felt it was safe enough to sneak back in, the stranger was long gone. He felt a mild twinge of guilt over hunting down a mere boy. Still, even the testimony of a child could be the undoing of several years' worth of planning. It wasn't worth the risk.

"Was he in the house?"

"Yes, my lord, along with several others. One of the soldiers snuck in unnoticed and saw their sleeping forms in all the beds."

That sounded better. The sooner he got rid of this fellow, the less nervous he'd have to be.

"Very well. Tell the men to stick to the plan; we don't make any moves for at least another month."

"It will be done, my lord."

/

Susan had muscle aches in places she didn't even know she _had_ muscles. Knowing it was due to the long time spent in the saddle, she swung her feet to the ground gingerly, wincing and gripping the saddle horn as her knees buckled.

Lucy didn't appear to be much better off, and Amos and the boys were definitely sore as well, though perhaps not quite as severely. They all followed Adeline through the thick undergrowth, stepping around bushes and ducking under the occasional low branch.

They'd been riding for the past two days, stopping only when it became too dark to see. By Amos's estimation they had about half a day to go until they crossed the Narnian border; the amount of ground they'd covered in such a short time was unbelievable, but their guide never hesitated, seeming to be familiar with the terrain and different routes.

Adeline had also told them that the smaller party meant they could travel faster, whereas if any of the soldiers were following them it would take at least an entire day for all of them to catch up, not to mention the possibility of being followed in the first place was minute. The news was heartening, and made the painful hours of horseback riding more bearable.

Now, Adeline led them to a small clearing near a clear, small stream. She set about gathering firewood while the others refilled the water skins and tethered the horses and got out their dwindling food supply. Dinner, as always, was simple and eaten quickly. After they'd finished eating they all found a fallen log or clean rock to sit on, and they sat in silence, enjoying the peace of the woods.

Susan's mind, however, was far from peaceful. She was back in Narnia, a place she'd almost convinced herself didn't exist at all. But if it was all make-believe, why did she feel happy for the first time in six years?

_Because Caspian is here, that's why_, reasoned the tiny part of her that couldn't ignore the truth.

But it had been three years for him, she reasoned. Surely a king of a prosperous and peaceful nation would have found a queen for himself by now. She knew exactly what other women would find appealing about him.

He was a king, and a fine one at that, but he was also a man who held himself to the expectations of his people. He was kind, and fair, and good. Such a man was hard to find, even in a world where magic actually existed. There was little to no chance that he was still unwed, and even if he was, that didn't guarantee he still felt anything for her.

She pushed the matter to the back of her mind; there was no purpose in getting upset about it now. She could worry about it when the time came. For now, the priority was keeping all six of them alive until they reached the Cair.

Looking around at the others, she could tell they, like her, were all lost in deep thought.

Well, all save for one.

Edmund, who had been unconsciously staring at Adeline for the past several minutes, suddenly asked, "How'd you get to be known as _the_ Lady Adeline?"

The question clearly surprised her; her head jerked in his direction and her eyes widened slightly before she fully heard the question.

"Er…well…um, actually I've served in battle a few times. I suppose that's the reason. It's actually just Lady Adeline, but someone somewhere added 'the' and it rather stuck."

By the end she was flushing slightly, and one of Ed's eyebrows was arched slightly as he watched her.

Amos had been quietly sitting off to the side, but he suddenly burst out, "No offense meant, m'lady, but there's a reason – a great many reasons – why the people know you as _the_ Lady Adeline."

"Really?" Edmund grinned. "I believe we have time for a story or two. Amos, please do share."

Adeline shook her head no vigorously, but Amos promptly ignored her and settled in, obviously enjoying himself.

"Well, one of her most famous conquests was against the Telmarines, after King Caspian defeated Lord Miraz. Some refused to dwell 'longside Narnians, so they tried invadin' Archenland."

Susan was surprised by that. "Did Narnia send any aid?"

"Oh yes," Amos assured her, "but it wasn't needed. Lady Adeline fell nearly a 'undred foot soldiers singlehandedly. The King's finest warriors were forced to just follow her 'round the battlefield, because there were no more soldiers to kill once she came along."

"Oh, please, Amos," Adeline cut in, her cheeks flushing, "None of the warlords _followed_ me anywhere. They sent me to fight, to defend Archenland."

"Aye, and you went beyond what was asked o'you, lass. You did a great deal more'n prevent an invasion. You showed the world what Archenland is willin' to do for their king, for their crown. King Caspian himself praised you to King Fitz."

Adeline wasn't looking at any of them, staring resolutely at the anthill beside her foot. Peter wasn't having it, however. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and looking at Adeline intently.

"You felled a hundred men by yourself?"

Her face was bright pink now, but she nodded briefly in answer.

"Yes, but I didn't keep count."

They all laughed, and Edmund urged Amos, "Well, then go on. What other great things has she done?"

"After that, now, she returned back to Anvard, was made a member o' the royal guard, and resumed her protective duties for the Princess Gwen."

Here, Amos turned to face Adeline, asking, "Where is the Princess, lass? Strange for you to be off without 'er."

There was a long moment of silence; Adeline's face was a mask of stone, exactly the way it had looked when Susan had asked her in Amos's kitchen about the lump on her forehead.

"She's dead."

They all looked at her in surprise, but none more so than Amos.

"Dead?" He echoed, his voice disbelieving.

Adeline was still looking at the ground; she clenched her hands together and took a deep, shaky breath before replying.

"Yes. Princess Gwen was found dead in her chambers while visiting Tashbaan."

Amos seemed unable to say anything else. He stared at Adeline in shock, while the others tried to make sense of the conversation. Finally, Lucy spoke up gently, saying, "Adeline, you don't have to tell us about it if you'd rather not."

Adeline shook her head slightly. "No, it's alright. I owe you that much."

She met their gazes at last; Peter nodded encouragingly and she seemed to take heart, shifting her position and hugging her knees.

"I've been Gwen's personal bodyguard since we were children," she started, and gradually she told them of how she'd gotten in a scrap one day with a young boy whose father worked in the palace in Anvard. She'd absolutely thrashed him, and the king just happened to be walking by at the time and saw the tail end of it; she'd made the boy apologize to the little girl he'd been bullying right when Adeline had passed by. King Fitzgerald had called her to him, asking why she'd done such a thing.

"I told him I didn't like how he'd treated the little girl, and since he wouldn't listen to me I decided to do something about it." Adeline said, fondness in her voice as she delved into the memories. Susan watched as she visibly relaxed, the tension leaving her shoulders.

"I thought the king would scold me or throw me into the stocks, but he just smiled and asked where my parents were. My mother had been dead for nearly three years, and my father was too drunk to notice when I was gone, so at seven years of age I was left mostly to my own devices. When the king learned that he sent a servant to gather my few things, then took my hand and brought me to the palace to meet Queen Isabella and Gwen."

She paused again, a bittersweet smile on her face.

"I was told that the princess needed someone to look after her, a companion. They offered to let me live in the palace as an honored guest, and I would be allowed to play and go wherever Gwen did. It sounded too good to be true, but in time I saw that they'd meant every word. I came to consider them the closest thing I'd ever had to family. King Fitz and Queen Isabella regarded me as one of their own."

Susan felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. She exchanged a glance with Lucy, who was in a similar state.

"But now Gwen's dead." Adeline's voice was bitter now; she seemed to be talking more to herself than to anyone else. "And I, like a coward, ran because I feared the consequences of allowing harm to befall her."

"I'm sure you did everything you could." Susan reassured her, but the girl merely shook her head.

"There is no excuse for cowardice. Not now, not ever." She replied harshly, and they all fell silent.

She stood abruptly, reaching for her sword that had been laid to the side while they ate.

"I'll keep first watch. The rest of you need to rest; we've still a long way to go."

Their conversation was clearly over, but Susan couldn't help but wonder, as they laid out the blankets and Peter banked the fire, if perhaps there was a bit more to Adeline's story.

/

_**Thanks for reading! Make my day and review!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**I need to clarify something first off: last chapter, there was a small bit about the man who killed Gwen, the same one Adeline fought in chapter 3. This man thinks that the person who attacked him was a boy of about 12 years of age. This is because Adeline's stature is the only clue he has, and Adeline is fairly petite. Sorry for any confusion. :-)**_

_**Also, exact time elapse between chapters won't be important for this entire story, but it does matter here. This chapter starts off the morning after where chapter 4 ended. **_

_**Happy reading!**_

/

Edmund shook his wet hair out of his eyes, squinting to make out Adeline's form just ahead of him.

The torrential downpour had caught them that morning, with the first drops coming right as they'd been packing up. Within minutes they were all cold, wet, and miserable. Still, they kept doggedly on, the horses trodding through the thick mud, threatening to bolt every time thunder cracked through the sky.

He glanced over at Lucy; she was hunched over, shivering and keeping a tight grip on the reins. Her horse had been the most skittish about the storm, and several times they thought the mare was going to throw her. For now, though, the horse was relatively calm, and he shot his sister an encouraging smile which she returned. Turning his attention to the front again, he saw Adeline had come to a stop. He pulled alongside her and shouted to make himself heard above the rain.

"What is it?"

She looked thoughtful, peering through the trees as though she was looking for something.

"I'm not sure we can cover more ground today. We'll all get sick, one of the horses will fall, or some other catastrophe will happen if we try to go on through this rain." She must have found what she was looking for; she guided her horse to a small gap in the trees that he hadn't noticed. "There's a small inn not far from here; it's not terribly out of the way, and we could at least dry off and have a warm meal. If we needed to, we could probably stay the night and cross the border tomorrow."

He nodded. "How far are we from the border?"

"With better conditions, no more than three hours."

The others had joined them by now; they all agreed that a hot meal sounded wonderful. She led them down a path that would have been hard packed dirt, but now comprised of something that Edmund could only call mud soup.

He said as much to Lucy, which got her and Susan giggling, so in slightly improved spirits they arrived at the inn, a small, modest structure built at something of a crossroads.

Adeline dismounted so she could go inside and pay, and without even thinking about it Edmund joined her. She looked at him, confused, for just a moment before shrugging slightly and preceding him inside.

He didn't look behind him at the others, but if he had, he would have questioned why they were all smiling.

/

Adeline pushed her hood back off her face as she entered the dim room; there were tables scattered all over, with a large roaring fireplace at the far end. The counter was just opposite them. There was a man standing at the far end writing in his ledger. She approached him, very conscious of Edmund walking slightly behind her.

"Excuse me, sir."

The man looked up, his face friendly and open.

"Yes miss, what can I do for you?"

"There're six of us; is there a place we can put our horses while we come inside and eat?"

"Yes, miss, the stable's out back. Two pieces for each mount."

A price a bit too high for her liking, but she had just enough and it wasn't likely they'd need funds again before they reached Cair Paravel. She paid the man, and they'd just turned to go outside when the man spoke.

"The storm ought to last through the night, miss. You need lodging as well?"

She looked at Edmund, silently asking what he thought. He shrugged, and said, "We can decide that once we've eaten. Right now I just want to dry off."

The innkeeper nodded understandingly, thanking them before they exited the building. The others were more than glad to follow them to the barn just behind the inn, down a slight hill that had turned into a death trap with the rain.

It didn't take long to stable their horses, and on the way back up Adeline discovered that the path was, indeed, "mud soup". She slipped again and again; suddenly her left foot found a hole, and she would have fallen on her side if a pair of strong arms hadn't wrapped around her.

She craned her neck and saw Edmund's face above her own; he gently set her upright, resting his hands on her waist briefly to make sure she had her balance. For some reason she felt her collarbone grow warm; she met his gaze with difficulty. "Thank you."

He grinned easily, the strange look in his eyes vanishing as he fell into the easy banter they'd established during the hours of travel.

"No problem. I'll expect the favor to be returned, though."

She snorted slightly, and rolled her eyes as she replied, "As though I could catch you. I'm not even half your size."

It was true; even with them both standing upright she didn't even reach his shoulder. But he laughed and said, "Yes, well, we can't all be widely renowned as terrifying beasts that resemble some sort of pixie."

"_Terrifying beast_?" She tried to sound indignant but she couldn't help laughing, and he caught it, looking pleased with himself that he'd won. She glanced behind her at the others, just in time to see Peter and Lucy exchange a knowing smile.

A knot of familiar dread settled low in her gut; she'd seen that look before, except it was on Gwen's face when she'd introduced Adeline to Xaviar.

She knew she was wrong to leave so suddenly without even seeing him, but when she'd awoken in Gwen's room and it was still so dark but she could still see the crimson stained sheets so vividly and the mask of death on the face of her friend, her _sister_, was too much and she couldn't think straight, couldn't plan properly, she just knew she had to get out before anybody else came. So she packed her bags, snuck into the stables and by sunrise Tashbaan was nothing more than a smudge on the horizon behind her.

Now, that night with the feast and the dancing and the feeling of Xaviar's hand clasping her own…it all felt ages ago. Almost like it had never even happened.

She remembered liking him; she even remembered _why_ she'd liked him. But it all seemed like a figment of her imagination, a fairy tale amidst a fortnight of nightmares that woke her in the darkness, panting and clammy with sweat.

She shook her head slightly as they reached the inn, knowing that now was neither the time nor place to dwell on such things. She needed to focus on getting the Four, along with Amos, safely to Cair Paravel. Concentrate on the living, not the dead. There would be ample time to grieve later.

The warmth they found upon entering the inn was pure relief, and without much ceremony they all sat around a simple table, not unlike the one Amos had had in his kitchen.

Dinner was hot, and tasted decent enough. The innkeeper came around as they were finishing, asking if they wanted to rent a room.

"_A_ room? Is there only one available?"

"I'm afraid so, miss. The others…a band of soldiers came through just last night. Left everything a horrible mess. It will take at least three more days to repair."

"Soldiers? Did you recognize where they were from?" Peter asked.

"No, sir, I did not. They were boisterous, and rude, and drank much wine. Likely the reason for the shape they left their rooms in. Furniture broken, smashed glass everywhere..." he shuddered. "But our largest room is ready, with two beds. We have plenty of clean, dry blankets for the gentlemen."

Adeline turned to face them all, and knew what they were all thinking: she'd rather be crowded than wet and cold. Peter looked interested about the soldiers, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly, signaling that they'd talk about it later. He nodded slightly in agreement, and she turned back to the innkeeper.

"The one room will do nicely, thank you. How much?"

"Oh, no, miss, no payment. It is not often in these parts we have guests who are so civilized. It is our pleasure."

Surprised, she smiled at him and thanked him sincerely; the others echoed her before he took their plates.

A short time later, the six of them stood in the doorway, observing the two double beds in the small room. It was certainly warm enough, and the innkeeper had brought up enough blankets to wrap all of them in a thick cocoon if they needed to. Adeline nodded in satisfaction; they would do just fine.

She turned to say something, but when she caught the determined glint in Peter's eye, her mouth clamped shut.

"You're taking the bed, Adeline." His voice allowed absolutely no room for argument, but she couldn't stop herself from at least trying.

"But, Peter, it's not right-"

"Addie, you're sleeping in that bed if I have to tie you to the frame." Edmund interrupted her, and she stopped talking, if only from shock that he'd used her nickname. He held her gaze evenly, equally determined as Peter, if not more so. "We're going downstairs so you girls can change and get settled; we'll be back in fifteen minutes and you had _better_ be tucked in when I come through that door."

Without another word he spun on his heel and marched down the hall. Peter seemed to fighting back a smile, but he and Amos followed, the latter closing the door behind them.

Adeline turned slowly, facing the young queens who were doing absolutely nothing to hide their amusement.

"Is he always like that?" she asked, baffled.

"Not always. But sometimes." Susan told her, with a grin that could almost be described as smug.

She shook her head as the three of them dressed in the driest clothes they could find; the oiled leather of her saddlebags kept out most of the rain, but some things were slightly damp. Anything was better than what they had on, though, so in short order they had all dressed, clambered beneath the woolen blankets and waited.

Sure enough, the sound of heavy boots approached their door; the knock came, waiting for a call to enter. Susan gave it and Edmund came in, grinning shamelessly at Adeline, who was glaring at him over the edge of her blanket.

She rolled over on her side, determined not to encourage him anymore, and he must have taken the hint because everyone was silent as the men settled onto their respective pallets on the floor.

Adeline had every intention of staying awake for a while; after all, somebody needed to keep watch; but the long days and the short nights caught up with her, and sleep claimed her.

/

Edmund was sleeping rather soundly, at least for someone who was sleeping on the floor, but a strange sound woke him. He held his breath and waited, praying it wasn't another group of soldiers.

There it was. A quiet, muffled, sniffling sort of sound, almost like someone was crying. He frowned, thinking he was hearing things, but it came again, a bit louder this time, and he realized it was coming from Adeline's bed.

His body acted without thought; he was on his feet and silently padding over to the bed, moving out of instinct. He moved around to the other side since Adeline was facing away from him, and he saw that she was crying, softly, in her sleep.

Something in his chest contracted painfully, and he knelt beside her and reached a hand gently to touch the hand that lay beside her head on the pillow.

The contact woke her instantly; her eyes were wide and alert, and they found his. But they were still full of tears, and he saw the embarrassment in them as she realized what he'd seen. He felt a twinge of regret; he didn't want her to feel that way in front of him.

She shifted and he saw that she was wearing only her camisole. The sight of her bare shoulders, the curves of her collarbone, made the back of his neck flush, but he pushed the thoughts out of his mind and focused on her face.

"Addie, what is it?"

"I'm-I'm sorry." She sniffed, propping herself up on one elbow and wiping her face with her free hand. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"That's alright," he whispered, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

As he spoke he moved his hand over hers; he gently squeezed it, stroking the back with his thumb without even thinking about it. She didn't seem to mind; in fact, as she continued to wipe her face she turned her hand so she could grasp his fingers. Her grip was firm, silently asking for comfort, and he moved his other hand to smooth back the strands of hair that wisped about her face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

She shook her head, squeezing his hand, and unless he was imagining things she leaned into his other hand, and he let his palm rest on her cheek for the briefest of moments before he stood slowly.

"Are you alright now?"

This time she nodded, and released his fingers. She looked up at him, and it suddenly struck him how vulnerable she looked in that moment.

He almost missed her whispered, "Thank you." He merely smiled, and crept back to his pile of blankets, and as he closed his eyes again he couldn't help but wonder if her skin was always that soft and smooth.

/

The next morning Adeline woke, more refreshed and invigorated than she'd felt in a weeks. She pushed the blankets off and stood, reaching for her tunic, and was buttoning up the front when she froze, the events of last night rushing back to her.

She felt the color start at her collarbone and sweep up to her hairline. Not only had Edmund seen her _crying_, of all things, but he had actually been concerned, and come to comfort her. And she'd let him.

She knew that the feel of his hand clasping hers and brushing back her hair was no dream; she'd clung to him like some sort of weakling. What he must think of her, she didn't want to know.

And to make matters worse, she'd forgotten at the time that she wasn't fully dressed; she'd removed her tunic so it could finish drying fully during the night. Realizing she'd only been wearing her camisole, baring her shoulders and far more of her chest than she was used to, she closed her eyes in utter mortification.

_So, basically_, she thought, _I've given the legendary King Edmund a bloody nose, nearly gotten him killed by rogue man-hunters, then woke him with my hysterics, while practically half-naked. And now we get to travel some more today in each other's company. Fantastic._

Fighting the urge to hide beneath her blankets, she packed up her things and finished dressing, strapping on her sword, with her dagger just beside it. She tugged on her boots and made sure the small hunting knife was tucked securely at her ankle, and picked up her quiver on the way out the door.

She stopped short at the foot of her bed, however, when she discovered that there were three men lying between her and the door. It would take a great deal of stealth to maneuver around their sleeping forms, and she was just trying to decide how to go about it when an almighty crash sounded downstairs in the kitchen (someone had probably dropped some dishes), and she had to fight back laughter at the five very startled people who bolted upright, eyes wide in surprise.

Eventually they all spotted her standing there, miserably failing in her attempts not to smile, and she didn't want to say what had amused her so she said quickly, "Come on, breakfast is probably ready."

As they went downstairs Adeline set all her weapons except for the hunting knife on a table in the back corner. She turned to join the others and caught Edmund watching her discreetly; when her eyes met his she felt the heat on her neck but she stamped it down, determined not to let him see that side of her again.

She was seated between Peter and Lucy, directly across from Edmund. She refused to blush, deciding to act as though last night had never even happened. He apparently had chosen a similar tactic, and other than the polite "pass the butter" he didn't speak to her.

This strategy actually worked quite well; the toast was passed around, the hot tea was poured, and the poached eggs sprinkled with copious amounts of salt and pepper all served as wonderful distractions from her discomfort.

In short order they had all finished eating, wiping their mouths and draining the last of their tea from the crockery mugs. The innkeeper was just coming out to take their empty plates when the jangle of harnesses and wagons sounded from the yard.

The man's face paled slightly, and he went to the window, turning back to face them with a look of fear in his eyes.

"It's those soldiers again!"

Adeline stood and crossed to the window. She peered out carefully, drawing a sharp breath when she recognized the armor of the men who had been following her.

"Who are they?"

Peter's voice right behind her made her start a little, but she said calmly, "It's them."

They all immediately understood, and Peter turned to the innkeeper. "Sir, you might wish to stay in the kitchen. We'll handle them, since they followed us here."

He nodded, scurrying out of the room and closing the door tightly behind him.

Adeline paused, weighing her options. They could run, as they had before, but their chances of escaping this time were slim to none; it was broad daylight, and the inn sat in a much larger clearing than the farm had. There was no way they would make it to the cover of the trees without being spotted.

Their only choice was to stay and fight. Not her preference, but she was sure she could handle them. She took another peek out the window and guessed the men to be no more than twenty in number. An insignificant number, really. No problem at all.

"Peter, Edmund, Amos, you three get the queens back in that corner. _Do not_ let anyone besides myself to come near them."

She knew the last bit wasn't necessary, but old habits die hard and now wasn't the time to be assuming anything. But the men clearly had some trouble with her instructions.

Edmund especially looked stunned; he'd gone to the back table and picked up her sword, still in its sheath but somehow she knew he hadn't been planning on handing to her.

"Adeline, you can't be thinking of fighting them all by yourself?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Indeed I am. I'll be fine, and one of you can take my dagger in case one of them gets too close. I'll need my sword, though, Edmund." She added, holding out her hand for the weapon.

Edmund simply stood and stared at her, looked at his brother, then back to her and said, "But you're a _girl!"_

Adeline felt her eyebrows shoot up. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

"What he means," Peter explained hastily as he shot his brother a look, "is that you've protected us for the past three days, and it feels like we ought to help somehow."

She rolled her eyes. "Peter, you said that you and Edmund haven't touched a sword in six years. And you will be helping if you will just _give me mine_."

Edmund was clearly uncomfortable with the idea, but she heard heavy footsteps on the porch outside and she all but shouted, "_Edmund!" _just in time for him to toss the sword to her, still in its sheath.

The door opened behind her, Peter bolted towards his sisters, and Adeline caught the handle of her sword midair, spinning on her heel and twisting the weapon downwards as fast as she could, and the sheath went flying off the blade and smacked the first soldier square in the forehead.

The man just behind him realized what was happening; he yanked his sword from his belt and the first man did the same, charging Adeline. She sidestepped the first swing, dodged a fist, and slammed the hilt of her blade into the first one's helmet so hard it dented the metal. He stumbled back, disoriented, and a quick thrust of her sword into his abdomen finished him.

The second man had got behind her; he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, across her chest, and placed his blade at her throat. She couldn't hold back a condescending snort at his obvious inexperience. The type of hold he was attempting was only successful if your captive was disarmed. Which, as he ought to have realized, she was not.

_Ameteur_.

With incredible ease she slid her blade between his and her throat, shoving it away from her. She jumped, using his grip on her shoulders to swing her body weight backwards, and ended up doing some sort of backflip over his head.

She landed on her feet just behind him, and promptly sank her sword to the hilt in his back.

As he fell to floor, she caught a glimpse of Peter standing in the back, his jaw hanging wide open. She rolled her eyes, then bent and picked up the two swords recently derived of their owners.

"Here," she said, tossing them to the kings, "since you're so determined to help a _girl_."

Edmund had the grace to look sheepish, but he caught his sword easily and joined her and Peter; the other men had come running in the door to see what the ruckus was all about.

It wasn't long before the three of them stood amid an impressive amount of carnage. She whirled around when the kitchen door creaked open and the innkeeper poked his head. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, and Adeline felt a pang of guilt at the wreck they'd made of his dining room.

"I'm sorry." It sounded pathetic, even to her ears, but his eyes snapped to hers, and he quickly shook his head.

"Are they all dead?"

"Yes; unless there are more coming." The possibility settled uneasy on her stomach; she absolutely hated leaving this mess for their host to deal with, but if they wanted to be long gone before the reinforcements arrived they had to leave now. Unless….

"Sir, may I have your name?"

"Tomas."

"Right, then, Tomas, do you have a safe place you could hide? If more of these men come they'll likely blame you. We don't want you to suffer for it."

"This is all I have, miss." He said quietly, and Peter spoke up.

"Then come with us. We're less than half a day's travel south of the Narnian border; once we get across we'll make sure you're safe."

To her surprise Tomas agreed readily, gathering a few of his things and joining them in the stables. Fortunately he had a horse, so with their new member they hit the trail on a run, while Adeline prayed they wouldn't meet the other soldiers coming the opposite way.

Finally they hit the fork where they had left yesterday. The mud was mostly dried, but still thick in some places. She carefully maneuvered her horse around the worst spots, and when they hit a stretch of open ground, already dried to hard-packed dirt in the hot sun they once again pushed the horses into a gallop.

Every once in a while she would glance over her shoulder, to make sure the others were keeping up. Amos and Tomas, she was glad to see, managed quite nicely. The Four, of course, were expert riders and moved over the uneven terrain with ease.

Watching them, with the wind at their backs and sun shining brightly in the skies that had been so dark the day before, she felt the first seeds of hope begin to blossom within her. Maybe, just maybe, they would make it out of this alive.

/

_**Review! Thank you for reading!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Greetings! I know last chapter wasn't the best, but hopefully this one will make up for it. A bit more action here, if that's what you're looking for. Lemme know what you think at the end. This one picks up just hours after last one ended. Hope you like.**_

/

Lucy had not been expecting to cross a river.

To her knowledge, there was no river anywhere near the Narnian border, and they shouldn't have come upon the Great River for another couple of days.

But when she'd questioned Adeline the latter had informed her that there were several unnamed branches of the Great River, and this was one of the largest. It wasn't very long, in fact it emptied into a large lake just a few miles to the east, but it was wide, and thanks to the heavy rain they'd gotten yesterday it was also quite swift.

Lucy thought the opposite shoreline seemed entirely too far away. She knew better than to complain, though; she glanced at Adeline, who was also staring across the current with a speculative look. Peter waited patiently, but when she said nothing he asked, "Do you think we can make it?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes, but we'll need to use extreme caution." One hand reached behind her as she spoke, retrieving a length of rope from one of her saddlebags. It was caught underneath something, and when she tugged more forcefully Lucy caught a glimpse of something gold, some sort of square, but before she could figure out what it was the rope came free.

"Here," Adeline tossed the end to Susan. "Tie it to your saddles. It'll help us stay together."

Lucy moved to get in line behind her sister, with Amos directly after her. Edmund once again was in the back, and after he'd secured the rope to his saddle Adeline moved her horse carefully into the water.

Lucy tried to keep her teeth from chattering; Adeline had let her and Susan borrow an extra pair of trousers that morning, but they weren't very good at keeping out the cold water.

They were nearly out to the middle of the river now, the current pushing at Lucy's waist; she tried to focus on the gradually nearing shoreline to distract herself from the cold.

A strange whistling sound made her look over her shoulder, just in time to see the arrow sink into her horse's left haunch, and right then the whole world erupted.

Her horse bucked under the pain, squealing horribly, and Lucy felt her feet wrench out of the stirrups and she would have fallen off and been swept away if a callused hand hadn't grabbed her upper arm.

"Easy, lass, I've got ya." Amos's deep voice met her ears, clearer than all the muffled yelling that everyone seemed to be doing at the moment, and he pulled closer to her mare, untying the rope that connected her to their little chain. The animal was already limp, and vanished beneath the water when the rope came free. Lucy felt sick, but she held onto Amos's arm, arching her neck to keep her face above the current.

A shout from behind her brought her head around, and she felt her heart stop when she saw her brothers and Tomas trying to speed up, trying to get out of range of the soldiers that stood on the Archenland shore, armed with swords and crossbows.

A great splash made her jump, and she watched Adeline ride past them, shouting at Amos to get her and Susan across. Amos lifted Lucy onto the saddle, sitting sideways in front of him, and nudged his horse forward till they pulled even with Susan. The three of them looked back; Tomas was nearest, with Peter and Edmund not far behind him.

The six of them made it out of the water and up the muddy bank and then turned to watch the scene unfold. To their utter astonishment, Adeline wasn't following them. Instead she sat atop her horse in the middle of the river, arrow notched to her bow, pointed at the soldiers.

As Lucy watched she let the arrow fly, and a man fell to the ground a second later. His companions seemed uncertain at that point, looking back and forth between Adeline and her target, and when a few moments had gone by without another move from them Adeline slid her bow back into the quiver, turned her horse around and headed towards the bank.

Lucy could only just make out the men's shapes from this distance, but there was no mistaking the motions of one soldier as he raised his bow.

"Watch out!" Peter's cry came too late; the arrow sunk into the back of Adeline's left shoulder, the impact knocking her completely out of her saddle. Tomas gasped, Amos stood just to the side and slightly in front of Susan and Lucy, who watched in horror as her brothers ran back down to the water.

The horse had kept coming towards them, almost like it hadn't noticed, and Edmund grabbed the reins, holding it still, while Peter had waded out further, searching frantically for a glimpse of their friend.

He ventured out even more, the water up to his chest, and it looked like he was sweeping his arms in a wide arc under the surface, feeling for her.

Suddenly a hand shot up just in front of him, and a split second later Peter had grabbed it, heaving a dripping, bloody, and choking Adeline almost completely out of the water. He held her tightly against him, hooking one arm behind her knees, the other supporting her back, and carrying her out of the river.

Amos helped him up the bank, Peter extending the hand that was behind Adeline's back while she locked her arms around his neck. She was still coughing roughly, her entire frame shuddering, and the blood had already soaked through her shirt, an ugly red smear starting to make its way down her back.

Peter led them all a bit further into the woods, out of sight of the soldiers, who were – thankfully – keeping on their side of the river. He set Adeline down on a flat rock, gripping her shoulders to hold her steady.

Lucy moved around to the back of her; she longed for her healing cordial, but was also thankful that she'd learned a fair amount of natural remedies during her time as Queen.

She lifted the edge of Adeline's tunic gingerly, peering underneath to try and get a glimpse of the wound, but it was too far down, closer to the bottom of her shoulder blade, and Lucy shook her head.

"Well, first things first, Ed, are those soldiers following us?"

Her brother went to check, and came back to report, "No, but they've not left either. I think they're considering crossing."

Lucy sighed. "Very well. We'll have to make do for now, and patch it up later when we've got time. Will you four step around those trees there for a moment?"

Edmund looked like he didn't want to leave, but he said nothing and instead followed the other men out of sight. Susan immediately set to work on the buttons going down Adeline's front, and the sisters removed the wet garment as gently as possible, peeling it away from the soaked camisole underneath.

Lucy winced when the wound was uncovered; it was deep, and the arrow must have torn free while Adeline had been underwater, because there was gash that ran off the side of the puncture. The blood was gushing, running down her back, staining the waistband of her trousers with crimson.

"There're some clean bandages in one of my saddlebags." Adeline's voice surprised Lucy; it was calm and even, and sounded like getting shot clean off your horse and nearly drowning were everyday occurrences.

The bandages were sopping wet, but the river wasn't all that filthy so Lucy wrung them out the best she could and dressed the wound, using the spare cloths to mop the blood off of Adeline's back. In short order she was dressed again, and Lucy moved around to kneel in front of her.

"Do you ever put yourself first, Adeline?"

The question seemed to surprise her; her blue eyes widened slightly before she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Lucy said carefully, not wanting to sound ungrateful, "that you've done nothing but put your life on the line for ours over and over again, ever since we left Amos's farm."

To her own surprise, a wry smile twisted Adeline's mouth before she answered, "That's all I've ever done, Lucy. That was my _job_, for thirteen years. You do something long enough, you don't really think about it much."

It seemed a rather morbid way to live, to Lucy's thinking, but she didn't say that, instead patting Adeline on her good shoulder before calling the men back to join them.

/

Peter had sustained plenty of injuries. One simply didn't fight Jadis _and_ Miraz without acquiring more than a few bumps here and there. But every time, he'd had healers on hand, the whole of the Narnian army behind him, ready to fight whenever he gave the order, and it had always turned out alright. Always.

He was _not_ used to someone else taking the knocks for him. The red stain on Adeline's shoulder was difficult for him to stomach, a constant reminder that _he_ should have been the one fighting them off, keeping the danger at bay while the others rode to safety.

The rational part of his brain reminded him that Adeline was the only one of them who was sufficiently armed, that he and Edmund were using stolen swords, and in any case swords hadn't been of much use at the river. Adeline had drawn her bow, ordered him and Edmund to run for it, and without even questioning her further they'd obeyed.

What sort of king was he, anyway, to allow a woman – capable though she may be – to make herself the barrier between him and death?

He glanced over at her, noticing her pale face and the even paler knuckles that clenched the saddle horn in front of her; he somehow knew she wouldn't say a word about the pain or her fatigue, instead putting up a brave front to keep up their morale or some other such rubbish.

Lucy, however, had other ideas.

"I think we can stop here for a bit," she announced, and Adeline's head shot up. But Lucy, who had taken Edmund's horse while the latter walked, had already dismounted and was walking over to her patient.

"Let's take a look at that shoulder, Addie."

The nickname must have done the trick, because Adeline climbed down – a bit more awkwardly and stiffly than usual – and obediently followed Lucy over to a nearby tree stump. Peter got down himself and gathered the reins of Adeline's stallion with his own, and led them around a cluster of birch trees. Edmund, Amos, and Tomas followed and they settled in for a – hopefully – short wait.

They were closer to the girls than they had been last time, so they could all still hear what was being said. Peter's gut clenched when Adeline hissed in pain, and Susan's quiet, "Oh, dear" only confirmed his suspicions on the severity of the wound. The guilt twisted into a harder knot inside him.

No more words floated to them through the trees, and after a few minutes Lucy called them back. Adeline's face, if possible, was even paler than before, and he could have sworn he saw her hand tremble when she held it out. He knew she wouldn't like being coddled, so despite every inch of him screaming to help her he simply handed the reins over.

He couldn't stop himself, however, from waiting to make sure she didn't need help mounting. Unsurprisingly, she managed quite well with only one arm, and once seated she took a few deep breaths.

Her hands were plainly shaking now, whether from pain or from blood loss he didn't know, but she lifted her chin slightly and they started off again. Peter exchanged a worried glance with Lucy, who looked more resigned than anything.

It seemed that Adeline was still the one in charge, the one taking care of them all. The absurdity of it all made him shake his head a little.

_Nobody had better ever call me stubborn again_, he thought, and he contented himself with keeping a close eye on Adeline as they travelled north.

Their pace was quick, but not as fast as it had been before; they pulled to a stop on some sort of cliff, overlooking what Peter instantly recognized as the Great River. It was nearing midday, and sun reflected off the water, and the trees moved in the slight breeze, and it looked just exactly like Narnia that Peter couldn't help but sigh in relief.

Home. They were finally, _finally_ home.

A couple of hours later, Adeline had successfully led them down the cliff, though how she kept such a firm grip on the reins with only one hand was beyond Peter. But make it down they did, and it seemed almost too good to be true when Peter walked over – Lucy was taking a turn on his horse so Edmund could ride – and scooped up a handful of river water, of _Narnian_ river water, and threw it in the air.

He couldn't stop the small laugh that escaped him, and he looked over at the others and found his joy matched in his siblings' faces. Adeline managed a small smile, but her face was still tense with pain, though he wasn't sure she was aware of it. Amos, cheerful man that he was, simply looked happy at the fact that others were happy; Tomas was looking off into the distance with a strange look on his face.

Peter hesitated; the man had only joined them that morning, and had kept very much to himself. Still, he'd proved to be a sturdy traveler, never complaining, and Peter didn't want to assume he was up for more. So he asked, "Is everything alright, Tomas?"

The man looked to him, uncertain, but after a brief pause said, "Sir, I have kin in Beruna. Just a few miles west from here. I would be safe there, unless you have need of me."

Adeline had overheard, and she glanced at Peter and shrugged.

"Of course, Tomas. Thank you for not minding the short notice travel plans."

The kind man smiled, and after a brief nod of farewell to each of them he turned upstream, disappearing over the next hill.

"Well, at least he's got out of this safe." Adeline said, half to herself. Peter had to agree; what with all they had been through in the last week it was nothing short of a miracle they had come this far without worse injuries.

Peter looked once more down the path on which Tomas had ridden away from them. It was strange, they had known him for just a few short hours, but already Peter felt concern over his welfare. They couldn't afford to fret over him, though, so Peter put it from his mind and turned with the others in the opposite direction, following the current towards Cair Paravel.

/

Adeline had had enough excitement for one day.

Perhaps it was just her wounded shoulder, but she felt a good deal older than her twenty years when they finally stopped for the night. She managed to suppress the groan that wanted to escape as she climbed down, but she had to grab the saddle horn when black spots danced before her eyes.

She blinked rapidly and shook her head, and when her vision cleared she saw Lucy headed towards her with a determined glint in her eye. She knew better by now than to argue, so she simply led the way out of the clearing, behind a huge pine.

There wasn't anything to sit on, but Adeline didn't care about that. She just wanted her shoulder to stop throbbing. She stood patiently, allowing Susan to unfasten the buttons again and pull it gently off her torso. An unpleasant sensation tied her stomach in knots when she heard Lucy inhale sharply.

She turned around to face the young queens, knowing they would be honest but not entirely sure she wanted them to be.

"How bad is it?"

Lucy paused, searching for the right words, then apparently decided there were none and went for blunt honesty instead.

"The bleeding's stopped, that's good, but it looks as though the arrow was coated in something, probably some sort of poison. Your whole shoulder is red and swollen. And I bet you're feeling clammy, aren't you?"

Adeline managed a nod, her mind reeling. _Poisoned arrows_? Who had ever heard of such a thing?

"Can something be done for it?" she asked, trying hard to keep the fear out of her voice.

Lips pursed, Lucy nodded. "Yes, but unfortunately that something happens to be my healing cordial, which is in Caspian's possession at the Cair. We're about another two days away, and I'm just not sure it's safe to wait that long."

Okay, so not exactly good news. But she wasn't dead yet.

"I know a tea we could make," she offered, "to slow the poison."

The girls were more than willing, and after they'd helped Adeline with her shirt they scrounged the forest floor in the gathering dusk, picking the needed roots and herbs to make the tea.

When they got back to their camp Amos was adding a stick of firewood, and Edmund was bringing back one of their stewpots filled with water; Peter was a few feet away, tending to the horses, but when Adeline stepped into the firelight all three men stopped what they were doing and looked at Lucy inquisitively.

"Well?" Edmund prompted, and Lucy informed them of the poison and of the tea they were making. Their reactions were immediate concern, and Adeline had to admit she was rather touched. For some reason she'd come to think of them all as her friends without ever realizing they'd think of her the same way.

_That shouldn't surprise you, Addie_, she said to herself. _You've spent your whole life as the adopted daughter of a royal family, so why is it such a shock that these royals would treat you the same way?_

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't hear Edmund speak to her. She started when he touched her wrist gently, looking up at him – did he _have_ to be so tall? – and taking in his worried expression with wide eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't hear what you said." She stammered, hating how breathless she sounded and jerking her hand away from him instinctively.

"I asked how you were feeling." He said slowly, obviously wondering if the poison had begun to addle her brains.

"I'm alright. This tea should help."

He seemed satisfied, and he moved away from her, sitting on a log they'd rolled near the fire. Adeline sat as well, though not beside Edmund, choosing instead a patch of clean earth, and thanked Lucy when she brought her the tea.

It smelled awful, but Adeline sipped steadily, turning down the offer of boiled potatoes that was tonight's dinner. They were down to mostly root vegetables, and since they were in Narnia now they were reluctant to go hunting since there was a chance some Talking Beasts might be out here.

Before long they were all seeking their bedrolls, Amos volunteering for first watch, and Adeline made herself as comfortable as possible on her right side, wishing they'd been able to find some sort of root or herb for the pain, but knowing that she'd just have to stick it out until they made the castle.

But she wasn't supposed to go to Cair Paravel, she remembered, and the frustration of being practically forced by those _stupid_ soldiers to put her new friends in continued danger almost had her in tears. Suddenly she knew that she would get no sleep tonight, and she rolled gingerly onto her back, wincing as her shoulder met the ground.

"You alright, lass?"

Amos's quiet voice came to her from the other side of the clearing, where the men were sleeping, and after a moment of thought she replied, just as quietly, "I'm not sure."

She chanced a look at him; his face was open, receptive, and somehow she knew that he was one of those people who were just natural listeners, who would sit in silence while you told them anything and everything. She sat up slowly, crossing her legs and placing her elbows on her knees.

"King Fitz and Queen Isabella are the closest thing to parents I've ever had." The words were thick and strange falling from her tongue, but she swallowed and continued, after glancing around to make sure the others were asleep.

"There was always the knowledge that I wasn't their child, but they provided for me and showed concern for my welfare, which is twice as much as my own father ever did. I don't remember my mother, but I like to think she would have loved me as the queen does." She paused, looking at him again, and was relieved when he simply nodded.

"But their daughter, Gwen…she was to be the finest ruler Archenland has ever known. Her people adored her, but I knew her, really _knew_ her, and I understood better than anybody just how seriously she took her role as future queen.

"Her parents entrusted me with more than just their daughter, Amos. They trusted to future of Archenland to me, for safekeeping." Here, the words were nearly impossible to get past the lump in her throat, but she was determined to finish, for someone to understand that she hadn't meant for any of this to happen, that if she had her way she would be back in Anvard with her sister.

"They trusted me…and while I slept, a man snuck into her chambers and ran a blade through her heart."

Amos's face was a mask of pain now, but she searched and couldn't find any of the disgust and contempt that she was expecting.

"That's why I ran, you know. I was just seconds too late, and the killer knocked me out cold, but I woke up before anyone had discovered what had happened and I knew that I couldn't possibly look Gwen's parents in the eyes and tell them I failed, that I hadn't kept their daughter safe like I'd promised. I couldn't face them knowing it was my fault."

The last syllable was choked out, and she sniffed, not wanting to cry, not here, not now; she was surprised to hear Amos speaking again.

"Lass, ev'ryone in Archenland knew you for three reasons: your feats against the rebel Telmarines, your unusual position in the royal 'ousehold, and most of all, your undyin' loyalty to Princess Gwen. It didn't take an educated man to see that you adored her.

"But, lass, you've got to understand, now, her parents knew it too, just like the rest'o us. They knew you'd do your best to keep 'er safe, and beyond that they wanted you safe as well. They'll understand better'n anyone it weren't your doin'. You shouldn't blame yourself for what 'nother man did."

Part of her didn't want to listen, but the words wormed their way to her soul, and she was surprised at how comforting they were. She could only hope Amos was right, that Fitz and Izzy would understand. She took a deep, shaky breath, and shot him a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Amos."

He nodded modestly, and she laid down again, falling asleep within moments.

/

The next morning had them all rising early with newfound vigor. In record time they had packed and started down the trail, after Lucy had taken another look at Adeline's shoulder. Edmund watched his sister come back from behind the trees shaking her head, and she'd told them all the sooner they reached Cair Paravel the better. The poison was starting to spread, and they all tried not to keep sneaking worried glances at Adeline.

She looked pale and clammy, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were overly bright. Whenever asked how she was feeling the reply was "Well enough" or "Alright, thank you".

Edmund stamped down the frustration, knowing she wasn't the sort of person to complain, that she was just trying to keep a stiff upper lip through the whole ordeal.

Still though, he wondered, would it hurt to be honest with them? They weren't going to label her a weakling if she said, "My arm feels like it's going to fall off, and did anyone mention the poison?"

But no. Like a true soldier she sat in her saddle – thankfully she hadn't insisted on taking a turn walking, allowing Amos to give his horse to Lucy – and remained perfectly stoic.

Women. He'd never understand them if he lived to be a hundred.

They'd been going steady for almost three and a half hours when they came round a bend and walked straight into a band of Narnians. Edmund pulled back the reins in surprise, before noticing Glenstorm standing near the back.

"Your Majesties!" the dark centaur was surprised.

"Trumpkin!" cried Lucy, dismounting to greet their DLF. The ruddy dwarf looked shocked, but pleased nonetheless. Then he noticed Peter and Susan, and his jaw dropped open.

"What are you two doing back here?" he asked, coming towards them with a broad smile.

Laughter and greetings ensued, and Edmund could hardly hear himself over the noise, but Glenstorm spoke above them, addressing the Four collectively.

"Your Majesties, we rejoice at your arrival. But there are two in your number we do not know."

"Oh, yes," Peter started, "This fellow's named Amos, he's looked after us extremely well and will be accompanying with us to the Cair." To Edmund's pleasure the Narnians sent friendly smiles towards Amos, and the latter visibly relaxed where he stood holding onto the bridle of Lucy's horse.

"And this," Peter continued, "is – Adeline!"

Edmund looked over his shoulder just in time to see Adeline slump in a dead faint out of her saddle. His foot was already out of the stirrup when he heard her hit the ground with a soft _thump_, and moments later he knelt beside Lucy, who was peering beneath Adeline's tunic at the arrow wound.

"It's bad, Ed." She spoke quietly, but he saw the desperation in her eyes. He stood and crossed to Glenstorm.

"How far are we from Cair Paravel?"

"With this number, two days at best."

He shook his head. "That's not fast enough. What about two riders, without stopping?"

Glenstorm looked surprised. "If you rode hard and fast enough, Sire, you could be there by midday tomorrow."

He whirled around. "Lu, it's the only chance we've got of saving her."

She nodded determinedly, and he scooped Adeline's limp form into his arms. It was alarming, how light and overly warm she felt, but he ignored the fear and handed her to Glenstorm before heading back to his horse, and climbing on once again. He rode over to the centaur, who handed Adeline over to him, carefully laying her across the horse in front of him, her good shoulder against his chest and her hot forehead resting against his neck.

He looked at his brother and sister, then to the Narnians.

"Bring them safely to us."

He dug his heels in, and with Lucy close behind him they continued in their journey towards the sandstone palace by the sea.

/

_**Waddya think?**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Longest. Chapter. Ever. You've been warned.**_

/

The sound of hooves on cobblestones was sweet music to Edmund's ears. He steered around a sharp turn, heading up through the city to the palace gates. He could hear Lucy behind him, keeping pace easily, and he glanced down at the unconscious figure in his arms, wishing she'd open her eyes.

They had ridden practically nonstop, allowing the horses to rest and drink for ten minutes before starting off again. Galloping through the forest with only a half moon to guide them during the night wasn't exactly fun, but it was urgent to have pushed as hard as they had.

Lucy would come alongside him whenever they slowed to a walk and would check on Adeline. Each time her mouth pressed into a thinner, grimmer line that made the worry settle heavier on them both. He could feel Adeline's forehead getting ever warmer, the sweat making his own skin damp, and every so often she would give a horrible shiver, her body shuddering from head to toe with the raging fever.

_Please let us get there in time, _he thought.

He didn't remember the city being this extensive, but then again that had been over a thousand years ago. After what seemed another ten miles they rounded a final bend and the gates were before them, and Edmund dug his heels in, hard, pushing his horse into a frantic gallop past the thunderstruck guards.

He thanked heaven everyone here recognized him; immediately a tall manservant came running into the courtyard, bowing hurriedly as he took in the bedraggled travelers before him. Edmund was just wondering where to start explaining when Lucy took matters into her own hands.

"Does King Caspian have my cordial?" She slid to the ground as she spoke, never breaking stride as she reached up to hold Adeline steady so Edmund could dismount.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Bring it to me, with all haste. Send word to the King that we're here, and tell him to meet us in the Throne Room."

He hastened to do her bidding, and Edmund followed his sister up the steps and through the wide double doors, up another marble staircase and down a long corridor lined with bright tapestries.

Lucy showed no hesitation, quickly choosing one of the bedrooms and entering, drawing back the bedclothes so Edmund could lay Adeline down. He moved to leave the room, but she stopped him.

"I've got to work on it now, and until servants get here you're all the help I've got."

"Lu, I don't know the first thing about healing."

"Yes, but I don't need you to do anything except hold her up. She's still unconscious, you know."

As she spoke she had started unbuttoning Adeline's tunic; Edmund fought back the blush that stained his ears and helped his sister remove the filthy garment. He grasped the hot skin of Adeline's shoulders and pulled her to a sitting position as gently as he could, but Adeline still let out a soft moan, and he couldn't believe how much it hurt to hear it.

Lucy had drawn the drapes, the bright late morning sunlight pouring in, and just as Edmund was about to ask what he needed to do four maids came running through the door, the first one holding out Lucy's cordial.

The queen fairly snatched at the vial, working frantically to unstopper it, and motioned for Edmund to lean Adeline's head back so she could swallow. He ended up putting his whole arm behind her back to support her weight, and letting her head loll back against his shoulder. Lucy reached over and let a single drop through their friend's cracked lips, and after a brief pause a second drop followed.

The other maids had brought towels and bandages and a basin with hot water, along with a small jar of a vile smelling ointment. Edmund carefully laid Adeline back on the mattress, and looked up at Lucy.

"Will she be alright?"

Nodding slowly, Lucy looked at him, tearing her eyes off her patient for the first time since they'd come through the door.

"I think so. But the wound will still need a proper dressing; and she'll have to rest a great deal before she feels like her old self again."

Edmund let a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Alright. I'll let you finish up here; come whenever you're ready."

She had already turned her attention back to Adeline, acknowledging his words absently as she began to give directions to the maids.

He knew there wasn't anything else he could have done, and Adeline was certainly in good hands, so he didn't feel the least bit guilty in backing out the room and closing the door softly.

"Edmund!"

Caspian was heading his way, a wide smile on his face which Edmund returned. He looked older, but better and stronger. Still, it was the same Caspian he knew from six years ago.

The two men met, embracing warmly before Caspian pushed Edmund out to arm's length.

"The servant said something about an injured girl – it's not Lucy?"

"No, not at all, she's doing the healing actually," Edmund reassured him, and his friend's face relaxed as he draped an arm around Edmund's shoulders, leading back towards the Throne Room.

"What, exactly, are you two doing here anyway?"

"Four," Edmund corrected softly, and he smiled to himself when the other king became very still.

"Four?" He echoed, his eyes wide with shock.

"Yes; we met your excursion party a little ways from the Archenland border. Peter and Susan stayed with them while Lu and I brought our wounded friend here. They should be here day after tomorrow if all goes well."

Caspian didn't appear to have heard anything past "Susan". He was staring at a spot just over Edmund's shoulder, his expression still dumbfounded. After several long moments had gone by he noticed Edmund watching him with a knowing grin.

"She missed you, Caspian. She never said anything, I think perhaps it pained her too much, but we all knew. Her heart stayed behind when she left."

Caspian closed his eyes, but the look on his face was one of joy that was beyond words.

Edmund was happy for him, truly he was; they'd watched Susan push Narnia further and further away, and even when she insisted it was because it was make-believe anyhow and was something for children, he'd always known it was because of Caspian. To admit missing Narnia would be admitting to missing _him_, and Edmund had struggled with finding a way to comfort his sister without rubbing salt in the wound.

He gave a deep sigh of contentment, just thinking of how happy Susan was going to be when she got here – and as the air filled his lungs it hit him.

He smelled _awful_. Almost a month of sweat, horseback riding, river water, and sleeping out in the woods had added up. He grimaced; Caspian noticed and laughed.

"Go on, your chambers are in the same place. I'll wait here for Lucy, and when you've both cleaned up we can talk."

Smiling in thanks, he turned and trotted up another staircase, taking the hall down to his old room. He hesitated at the door, but the even the handle felt familiar, smooth and cool, and he couldn't stop the sigh that escaped him when he saw the enormous tub standing in the middle of the room, filled with steaming water, and a small table nearby held towels and soap. There were even some of his clean clothes laid out on the bed.

He wasted no time; Lucy wouldn't take very long, and there was much to discuss with Caspian.

/

Lucy, having a much more sensitive nose, had noticed she'd needed a bath days ago, so her greetings with Caspian were much shorter as she was in a hurry to wash away the grime and sweat of travel.

Clean and garbed in a simple yellow silk gown, she hurried back to Adeline's room before she met with Caspian and Edmund.

Adeline' shoulder already had made vast improvement; it now looked to be several days old instead of two, and the fever had broken when she'd received the cordial. She was sleeping, never stirring when Lucy came to the bedside, and once satisfied that all she needed now was to rest, Lucy nodded at the maidservant keeping watch and made her way to the Throne Room.

Edmund and Caspian were waiting for her, talking and laughing almost as if they'd never left. They spotted her almost immediately, Caspian drawing her in for a proper hug, and then he turned to the siblings.

"What's happened?"

Such a simple question. But so much _had_ happened in so little time that Lucy didn't have the foggiest as where to begin. She looked at Edmund, who seemed to be at a loss as well. They both laughed slightly before Edmund answered.

"We'll wait to tell the whole story once Peter and Su are here; it's quite unbelievable, even for us. But I will tell you – our injured friend we brought with us is someone you might know. Lady Adeline, of Anvard."

Caspian's jaw dropped.

"Lady Adeline? You're certain it's her?"

"Yes, quite," Edmund replied, a bit confused. "Why?"

Caspian looked at both of them before answering slowly, "Lady Adeline is believed to have been killed the same night Princess Gwen was murdered. Princess Gwen was - "

"Addie told us," Edmund cut him off, and Caspian fell silent.

Lucy's mind reeled, trying to make sense of it all. There were so many possibilities, so many different stories and any of them could be true, but for now, she decided, she'd trust Adeline. That had never failed them yet.

"We've another friend that will be arriving with the others; he's an Archenlandian himself and seemed to recognize her. She saved our lives countless times on the way here, Caspian; we've no reason not to trust her."

Edmund nodded. "She may not even know she's presumed to be dead."

Caspian seemed a bit more at ease, but he still said, "Well, if it's alright with you I'd like to see her. I've met her before, and though it's been a few years I should be able to recognize her. If it is her, then I'll send word to Anvard immediately. The royal family is mourning for her as much as they did the princess."

That matched Adeline's story, so Lucy felt a bit more confident as she led the two men to the small guest chamber.

The servant girl still sat by the window, quietly working on some mending, and the room smelled faintly of the salve they'd used earlier.

Adeline lay still, mostly unchanged, though her color showed vast improvement. Lucy felt of her forehead, relieved to find it cool. She looked up at Caspian, who nodded grimly.

"It's her, alright. I haven't seen her since she was sixteen or so, but I'd recognize her anywhere. Given her condition I'd say the assassins probably came after her as well."

Lucy felt her own eyes widen in surprise. "We didn't think of that, Ed."

He was equally shocked. "She said she didn't know who those men were, though. She would have told us, don't you think?"

"Men?" asked Caspian, his voice sharp. "What men?"

Edmund gave an abridged version of their close call at the farm, the inn, and at the river. Caspian looked thoughtful when he'd finished, and was a bit disappointed they didn't still have the arrow that had hit Adeline.

Right then Adeline coughed, stirring slightly, and Lucy quickly sat on the edge of the mattress. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and found Lucy.

"Water."

The word was barely there, more of a strangled whisper than anything, but the maid was already at Lucy's shoulder with a ladle.

Lucy held the dipper with one hand, and reached for Adeline's head with the other. To her surprise, Edmund had come around and was already helping Adeline raise her head enough to swallow, cradling the back of her head with one of his hands.

Adeline couldn't manage the whole dipper, but when she'd finished Edmund gently laid her back on the pillow.

Lucy fought the urge to stare. She and Susan had been sick plenty of times, and Edmund had never, _ever_ shown the concern he was showing now. Still, this wasn't the time to question him, so she simply gave the dipper back to the servant and adjusted the bedclothes.

Adeline was sound asleep before they'd even reached the door, and after Edmund had quietly closed the portal behind them Caspian turned to them both.

"I'm the same as you two – I have no reason not to trust her. But it's odd that she wouldn't run to Anvard if she was being hunted. Do you have any idea where these men were from?"

"I have one of their swords," Edmund offered, "but no one in our company recognized it. It's in my room."

"I'll look at it later," Caspian promised, "but for now I'm sure you both are starved. Come, we'll have time to discuss this later."

Lucy smiled and took his offered arm, and as they started towards the private dining room she looked at her brother with a cheeky smile.

"Ed, do you think they'll have toast?"

He poked her side, and Caspian's laughter did wonders for making her feel like they'd never left.

/

Adeline felt as though she'd been trampled by a wild boar. A very large, very _angry_ wild boar.

She winced slightly as she stretched beneath the covers, glancing towards the door.

Lucy had stopped having a servant sit with her while she slept; she'd made vast recovery over the past two days, thanks largely to the healing cordial, and the queen had told her that she needed rest until her body recovered from the massive blood loss.

It had been hard, but Adeline had forced herself to rest all day yesterday, never even getting out of bed, not even for meals. Trays of food were brought to her room, and Lucy and Edmund even came to eat with her once, but Adeline felt her patience wearing thin by the minute.

There was absolutely no way she was staying in here all day long again.

Moving slowly, she sat up and swung her feet over the side of the mattress, gripping the edge when things started to spin. After a moment the sensation went away, and she carefully stood, noticing as she did that she'd lost a good five or ten pounds in just two days, probably due to that wretched poison.

Inch by inch, she shuffled over to the window, enjoying the early morning sunshine, and after cautiously looking at the door again she moved to the wardrobe that stood in the corner. Hopefully her things had been put in here, and if not she'd resort to finding a servant.

She was overjoyed to find not just her own clothes, but some newer gowns as well that looked to be her size, in soft blues and greens and even one that was a gorgeous cream color. She reached out to finger the soft material, jumping when the door suddenly opened behind her.

"Oh!" The plump, gray-haired servant started in her surprise. "M'lady, ought you to be out of bed?"

Adeline hastened to assure her. "Yes, I'm feeling so much better; I'd really like to go down to breakfast if there's still time."

The woman looked a tad uncertain, but nodded anyway.

"Their Majesties aren't even up yet, miss, so you've time to bathe if you like."

Adeline could not keep the smile off her face. A bath – a real, actual bath, with soap and hot water, sounded like nothing short of paradise.

An hour later, Adeline stood before the large, oval mirror in the corner, while the servant – she'd said her name was Lela – laced up the back of the simple cream dress. Her hair was back to its normal gold color after the thorough washing, and she'd brushed it out and pulled it back from her face, letting the ends hang free down her back.

She was already tired, but she didn't care; she was wonderfully, gloriously clean. It had been worth it.

Lela finished, taking a step back to look her over, and smiled.

"There you are, my lady. You look lovely. Go on, now, I'll tidy up here. The dining room's to the left, down the stairs, and through the blue doors on the right."

"Thank you so much, Lela." Adeline said warmly, and made her way out the door.

/

Edmund was famished.

Still, though, he'd told Lucy he would check on Adeline before he came to breakfast, so he strode quickly through the corridor, down the back staircase, made a sharp left, and walked smack into someone.

Staggering back a couple of steps, he instinctively grabbed the other person's upper arms in an effort to balance them both. He blinked, looked to see who it was, and blinked again, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"_Adeline?_"

The Adeline he knew from the past two weeks wore simple, cotton tunics and trousers, hair tied back in a braid, belt with her sword and dagger worn over her shirt.

_This_ Adeline was wearing a soft white dress, with sleeves that ended at her wrists, and with a skirt that went all the way to the floor. Her hair was loose down her back, fixed much like his sisters wore it whenever they were in Narnia, and as he stood there with his hands still on her arms, his nose caught a whiff of apple blossoms.

He knew he was ogling, but he honestly couldn't help himself.

"Is everything alright, Edmund?" her soft voice broke through his fog, and he immediately let go of her, shaking himself a mental shake.

"I'm sorry, Addie, I wasn't expecting to see you up and about. I'm assuming you're feeling better?"

She'd looked rather concerned at his silence, and his question made her smile.

"I am, yes. Lucy took such good care of me that I thought I would try joining you all for breakfast, if it was all right."

"Of course; come on, Lu will be thrilled."

He offered her his arm and she took it, grinning up at him amicably, and he inhaled sharply, not sure maintaining physical contact with her was the best idea, because if he'd thought she looked good before, her smile was downright breathtaking.

He tried to focus on not tripping over his own feet, and they managed to reach the dining room without incident. He even gave her a silly bow when he held the door for her, earning a soft laugh that was cut short when Lucy spotted her.

The young queen was thrilled to see her, and the girls were chatting when Caspian came in. He paused, surprised at Adeline's presence, but an easy smile quickly came over his face as he crossed the room.

"Lady Adeline. It is wonderful to see you again, and even better to see you recovered." He pressed a brief kiss to the back of her hand, and Adeline smiled.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Lucy interjected, "Oh, no, Addie, that won't do at all. He's a friend, just like we are. And he'll call you Adeline or Addie just as we do. You'll see, it's great fun."

Caspian grinned again, and Adeline laughed slightly before correcting herself.

"Thank you, Caspian."

Over the meal of fruits and pastries, Edmund came to the realization that they had seen only one side of Adeline while on the trail. It made sense, after all; she'd had to focus and there hadn't been loads of time while on the trail to joke around. But hearing her laugh, truly laugh, at something Lucy had said got him staring again. It was as if an entirely different person had come downstairs.

Their breakfast was interrupted with the arrival of Reepicheep, whom Lucy greeted with such enthusiasm Edmund thought the Mouse would have blushed if he could.

"Hello, Reep," he grinned, well pleased himself to see another friend. "How've you been?"

"Quite well, thank you, Sire. I have news for all of you: High King Peter and Queen Susan have arrived. They are coming up the front steps as we speak."

Lucy gasped, then seized Adeline's arm and rushed out the door, practically dragging the other girl with her. Reepicheep scurried after them, leaving Caspian and Edmund alone.

The latter glanced sideways at the other king; he was sitting stone still, looking at the door like it was his worst enemy.

Edmund stood, and reached for Caspian's shoulder, giving it a sympathetic squeeze.

"Come on, Caspian, she'll think you've forgotten her."

Caspian swallowed, and followed Edmund out the door and into the main entrance hall, joining the girls just in time to see the two elder Pevensies come in.

"Adeline!" Susan exclaimed in delight, while Peter surged forward and swept Adeline into a brotherly hug. Susan was next, and she drew back, looking at Adeline sharply.

"You didn't get out of bed before Lucy said, did you?" she asked, and Adeline laughed.

"No, Susan, I obeyed for the most part. I just couldn't stay cooped up for another day, and as long as I don't move too quickly I'm good as new."

Susan smiled; her eyes found Edmund's, and a second later they went to the man who stood next to him.

She froze, cheeks slightly pink, and all the others watched silently as Caspian slowly walked towards her. When he got within arm's reach he stopped, just looking at her for a long moment, before reaching up two fingers and stroking her cheek softly.

They both smiled at the same time, and Edmund couldn't stop his own grin when Caspian swept Susan into his arms, burying his face in her neck. He lifted her straight off her feet, and Edmund glanced around their little circle and caught Adeline looking at him; he rolled his eyes and she suppressed a smile.

He broke eye contact with her, this time finding Peter looking at him with a peculiar twinkle of amusement in his eye.

Before he could ask about it, though, Caspian released Susan, coming to greet Peter with a bear hug that was warmly reciprocated. Everyone was talking and laughing all at once, and in the midst of it all Edmund noticed Lucy's concerned gaze fall on Adeline. The girl looked exhausted, and it was only late morning.

Thankfully Caspian had picked up on it as well; he quieted everyone and said, "Well, we'll give you two a chance to get cleaned up, and Adeline, I'm sure you need to rest a bit before coming down for lunch. After that we'll catch up and visit."

Lucy looked torn; she wanted to go with her sister, but she felt obligated to make sure Adeline got to her room alright. Edmund stepped forward without even thinking about it.

"I'll look after her, Lu. You go on."

She shot him grateful smile, and with one last hug and a promise to Adeline that she'd come to check on her later, she hurried off to Susan's chambers. Peter had already gone, and Caspian had disappeared as well; the two of them were alone once more, and this time Edmund felt a bit awkward.

"Well, did you want to go to your room and lie down, or there's some nice gardens outside, I believe the library is on this floor, or we could just stand here and talk for the next three hours." He said the last part a bit teasingly, and to his utter shock a small giggle escaped her before she answered.

"I think I'd like to see the gardens, if that's alright."

He gestured to the door, choosing this time to walk slightly behind her in hopes that he wouldn't be tempted to stare as much, but instead he stared more, mostly at her hair. It was like liquid gold cascading down her back in thick waves, curling just slightly at the tips, reaching her waist.

He sped his pace, walking slightly in front of her now to show her the way, and was relieved to find that he could concentrate a bit better.

Adeline's thoughts, on the other hand, were filled with nothing but awe as Edmund led her through the palace. She'd always believed the castle in Anvard to be beautiful, with its masonry and statues, the walls built to keep out the winter chill. And the last time she'd visited Narnia, Cair Paravel had not been completed, but she'd still been impressed with the old Telmarine fortress.

Now, however, she had all she could do to keep her jaw from hanging open. The marble pillars, the carved doors, several of which were painted bright colors, were stunning. And, of course, there was the entire side of the palace that stood open to the sea. Edmund took her out onto a large veranda that overhung the seaside cliff, then down a series of steps off to the side.

The steps were closed off on one side by the palace wall, and after a few feet Edmund stopped, sweeping his arm out for her to precede him through a tiny arched door way, carved right through the sandstone. It led to a narrow passageway, and around a bend it suddenly opened into the private gardens, reserved for the Narnian monarchs and their guests.

Adeline stared in wonder at the beauty of it, and after a moment she caught Edmund grinning at her.

"I've never seen anything like it," she said, and his smile only widened before he offered her his arm again, leading her through the foliage.

They passed shrubs and flowers Adeline had never seen before, and Edmund helped with the names of things where he could.

She was surprised with his knowledge of the gardens; it must have shown in her face because he turned to her and said, "What? You didn't think a king would know the difference between a rose and a daisy?"

That lopsided grin of his was there, so she knew he was just teasing, but she couldn't help but blush a little.

"Perhaps any other king would not have surprised me, but for some reason I wouldn't have guessed you to be the outdoorsman."

He smiled again, but his look turned thoughtful as he replied, "I wasn't, not always. But shortly after my coronation – sorry, _our_ coronation – I grew rather…troubled. I would often come out here and clear my mind. It became one of my favorite places."

"What troubled you?" The question had left her lips before she'd realized how nosy it sounded, but Edmund was answering before she could apologize.

"I think it was the fact that I'd betrayed Aslan, my family, everyone, really. And they all just took me back, no questions asked, and made me their king." Here Edmund paused, thinking back. "I knew they'd all forgiven me, but it was some time before I could forgive myself."

Adeline wasn't sure what to say; he seemed lost in thought, and she couldn't bring herself to disturb him. She glanced around and noticed a stone bench near the wall, quite in the shade, and she headed over to it, content to just be out in the fresh air.

He still stood where she'd left him, staring at nothing in particular, but he suddenly noticed she'd moved and looked at her where she sat on the bench.

"I'm sorry, Addie, I didn't mean to neglect you." He sounded contrite, but she shook her head.

"It's alright, Edmund. I needed to sit for a moment anyway. I think I might need a nap after lunch." She gave a small laugh, and he smiled.

After a moment she looked over at him quizzically, and asked the question that had been on her mind for the past several days.

"Why did you start calling me Addie?"

He had come over to sit beside her, stretching his long legs out in front of him and leaning his head back against the wall; eyes closed, he appeared to be completely at ease, but her question made him peek over at her, then sit up nervously.

"I-I dunno. It just…suited you, somehow."

She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. She didn't respond at first, and he asked, "It doesn't bother you, does it?"

"No, not at all," she assured him quickly, and he looked relieved, so much so that it struck her as rather funny.

"Fitz and Izzy call me Addie all the time, Edmund. And in any case, I'm fond of nicknames."

"Are you?" he asked, a grin starting.

"Yes. Especially that one your sister called you when she scolded you for tackling me. Eddy, I think it was."

His cheeks had a faint blush, but he laughed a little along with her.

"I'll have you know," he started, trying to sound stern, "that Lucy is the _only_ person who is allowed to call me that. Everyone else calls me Edmund, or Ed, if they're familiar enough."

They shared another smile at the memory; after a moment his smile faded, replaced by an unreadable expression. He kept his eyes locked on hers, and she felt a twinge of uncertainty. Suddenly she leaned forward over her knees, hunching her shoulders slightly.

"I owe you an apology, Edmund." She spoke softly. She looked over at him to see confusion etched in his features, so she took a deep breath.

"That night, at the inn…" she heard his sharp intake of breath, and paused. But he said nothing, so she continued, "I never meant to wake you. I'd had nightmares, usually revolving around Gwen's death, but I've never just cried in my sleep like that before. I'm sorry, and if I'd known I would have at least been clothed properly, and-"

He reached over suddenly, and laid his hand atop hers where it lay on the bench between them.

Edmund knew it shouldn't have surprised him, but he thought they'd silently agreed to act as though that night had never happened. And now here she was, apologizing for any inappropriate behavior on her part, even though there had been none.

"Adeline, I have two sisters. I'm not the sort of man who runs for the hills every time I see someone crying. I do _not_ mind comforting you in any way I can." He hesitated, then much more quietly said, "And as for your state of dress, I perhaps should not have disturbed you if I had known. But as I said, I have two sisters. Don't let it trouble you."

A look of doubt crossed her face, but she looked up at him and he held her gaze steadily. She must have seen the truth in his eyes, because she relaxed, and quietly said, "Thank you."

They sat together in companionable silence for a few minutes, both of them jumping when they heard Lucy shout their names from somewhere above them.

"Is it already lunchtime?" Edmund asked her, astonished.

"I don't think so," she replied, but they both stood up to leave; before she could take her first step, he impulsively reached out and gently touched the back of her hand.

"I meant it, Addie." He said softly, and before he could talk himself out of it, he drew her in for a hug.

She stiffened for a brief moment, then her arms went around his middle and her head lay against his chest. She was soft and warm, and Edmund desperately tried to control his frantic pulse when she turned her head in towards him and he felt her breath warm on the side of his neck.

Thankfully, she pulled away just then, a grateful smile in place, and she hooked her arm through his as they headed back up for lunch with his family.

Edmund could tell the moment he set foot in the dining room that Caspian and Susan had spent most of the late morning together; they sat beside each other, laughing and talking with Peter animatedly, and all the while Caspian's hand was firmly clasping Susan's atop the table.

Lucy, on the other hand, was waiting for him and Adeline, practically pouncing when she saw them.

"Did Eddy let you rest, Adeline? Or did he drag you all over the palace? How is your shoulder? Is it sore? Do you need to lie down?"

Adeline couldn't even get a word in edgewise; she noticed Edmund's barely controlled laughter and elbowed him in the stomach as she nodded or shook her head in answer to Lucy's barrage of questions.

Her nonverbal replies seemed to satisfy Lucy, and in short order Caspian called their attention.

"It's a bit early, but we've some more guests for lunch. They are most anxious to hear what has happened recently." He glanced at Adeline, who picked up on his hesitation.

Edmund stood next to Adeline, and he immediately noticed when she tensed; he looked over at her in confusion, and so he saw her face blanche – even her lips were white – when Caspian spoke the names of their impromptu visitors.

"King Fitzgerald and Queen Isabella are here to see you, Adeline."

/

_**Hope you liked! Drop a review – it totally makes my day!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Sorry, y'all. Two tests, given on two consecutive days. It did wonders for my already deteriorating sanity.**_

_**This chapter was begun and mostly edited late at night, and I wanted to sleep SO BADLY but I persevered because I'm just that awesome and wonderful of a person. You're welcome.**_

_**(That was sarcasm. Most definitely sarcasm. I try not to be that arrogant.)**_

_**Enjoy and leave a review for me at the end. I love it when that happens.**_

_**Once more, it picks up right where we left off.**_

/

Peter stood awkwardly off to the side, completely unsure of what to do.

Adeline still looked to be in a state of equal parts shock and horror; Caspian looked quite grim, refusing to back down from the staring contest the former was challenging him to, and Edmund seemed to be hovering somewhere between protective and curious. Susan and Lucy were as baffled as Peter was, standing back and watching the scene unfold.

Adeline sighed, apparently giving up the nonverbal duel with Caspian.

"Do they know I'm here?" she asked, and Caspian shook his head.

"No. I told them I'd heard news of you, but your presence here is only known to us and a select few servants."

Adeline didn't look a bit reassured by this. Her face was still pale but she pulled her shoulders back determinedly and adopted a posture that screamed calm and collected; however, her hands were balled into fists, clenching the folds of her skirt. Peter wasn't fooled, not for a second, and he didn't think anyone else was either.

The doors swung open, and Trumpkin came through, giving them all a brief bow.

"Your Majesties, King Fitzgerald and Queen Isabella." He slipped back out once the royals had entered, closing the door softly behind him.

King Fitzgerald was broad shouldered, deep chested, and was just a few inches shorter than Peter. He had a slight belly, but was actually in rather good condition for a man his age. There were very slight streaks of gray at his temples, and though his face had a few lines, they were the sort of lines one got from smiling all the time.

His wife, Queen Isabella, was a beauty, especially for someone who had left her youth far behind her. She moved with effortless grace that strongly reminded Peter of Adeline, and despite the fact that the woman had recently lost her daughter, she smiled gently and reached for Caspian, drawing him in for a motherly hug.

"Caspian, dear, how are you?"

Caspian returned her embrace affectionately and greeted her in a similar fashion; he shook the king's hand, and evidently decided to get the worst over with.

He said nothing, merely nodded meaningfully in Adeline's direction; she stood where whoever came through the door would have their back to her upon entrance, and she'd done nothing yet to draw attention to herself.

The visiting king and queen looked over their shoulders, and Peter was surprised at the looks on their faces. There was shock, even disbelief, but the most predominant emotion there was joy.

"Adeline!"

Queen Isabella had crossed the room and thrown her arms around the astounded Adeline before any of them had time to ask what was happening. Peter realized that the queen was weeping, and suddenly Adeline, who had been standing stiffly in the queen's embrace, buried her face in the queen's shoulder, hugging her tightly.

For a moment no one said anything. Then, suddenly Queen Isabella drew back, crying, "Fitz! Look who it is! Oh Addie, I can't believe it!"

She was sobbing outright, choking a little on her words, but neither Adeline nor King Fitz seemed to care all that much; the two had met for their own hug, the king holding Adeline against him as though she were his own child.

Adeline was crying by now as well, the sound muffled against the king's chest.

Peter glanced at his siblings; Susan and Lucy, for some odd reason, were fighting tears of their own. Caspian seemed to be profoundly relieved, and Edmund looked as though the floor had just fallen out from under him.

Peter didn't blame him; the whole thing didn't make any sense, but just then Adeline drew back and looked at the Archenland rulers and they watched as she swallowed several times before managing words.

"I'm so sorry." The whisper was rough, and strangled sounding. The royals looked at each other, confused, before King Fitz asked gently, "Addie, what are you talking about?"

"I didn't keep her safe." She finally said, starting to cry again. Isabella took her by the hand and led her to sit down at the table, Fitz pulling out the chair on the other side of Adeline.

Suddenly remembering he had a handkerchief in his pocket, Peter handed the bit of cloth to Adeline. He was rewarded with a watery smile, and he retreated to his place beside Lucy, watching and listening to the three people seated at the table.

It was a moment before Adeline was able to speak again, but she wiped her face and took a deep breath, her eyes riveted on the surface of the table.

"I knew something was wrong, that night. I woke up suddenly, and I just…_knew_. But I didn't know what it was, so I got up and went to her room, just to see." Her voice was quiet, but steady. "I didn't see anyone in the hall, but her door wasn't closed all the way, and I could see through a tiny gap, and I saw – "

The tears almost got the best of her at that point, but she swallowed and pushed on. "I saw a man standing in front of her bed, and he was holding this awful sword. It was a full moon, and I saw blood all over the blade, and I didn't stop to think, I just rushed in, but he was bigger and stronger than I, and I managed to tear something off his robes before he knocked me out cold."

The couple on either side of her did nothing to hide the tears streaming down their faces, but they hadn't taken their eyes off Adeline.

"What happened then, Addie?" Isabella asked gently.

"When I woke up, the man was gone, but it was still dark out." Her face morphed into something like shame, as she admitted, "I panicked. I should have gone and found somebody, or sent word to you. But I was so afraid, and I just…_left_."

"What were you afraid of?" this came from King Fitz.

Adeline didn't say anything; her jaw clenched as she struggled to form words. Something clicked in the back of Peter's mind as he remembered the little she'd told them right after they'd left Amos's farm.

'_I feared the consequences of allowing harm to befall her.'_

Her words rang in his ears, and before he'd realized what he was doing he had come to stand directly across from Adeline, placing his hands flat on the table as he leaned towards her.

"Addie, they would never blame you." He said gently, and he knew he'd hit the nail right on the head when a shuddering sob got past the tight hold she was keeping on her emotions.

King Fitz and Queen Isabella looked sharply at Adeline.

"Surely you would not think such a thing, Addie." Isabella said, her voice conveying just how absurd the idea was to her. When Adeline still did not speak, King Fitz stepped in.

"Addie, we thought you'd been killed the same night as Gwen. We never once considered pointing the finger at you."

Adeline had clearly not thought that someone might come to that conclusion; her eyes widened as they filled with fresh tears. She looked at Peter, who smiled understandingly, and then turned her head to face Isabella.

"I'm sorry." She said humbly, and both king and queen leaned in to embrace her once again, murmuring words of comfort that were for her ears alone.

Peter felt something stir within him at the sight; he strongly suspected that what with all that had transpired since she'd left Tashbaan, Adeline had most likely not had time to grieve. And if she and Gwen were as good as sisters, grieving would naturally have to happen at some point.

He wasn't sure how to approach the subject; he filed it away to ask Lucy about it later. For now, though, it was evident that seeing Fitz and Isabella once again, and talking with them, had done Adeline much good. The three of them disentangled themselves from their group hug, Adeline's face already mostly dry.

Caspian stepped forward, obviously pleased with the turn of events.

"I hope you'll be able to forgive me for the ambush, Adeline."

She looked up at him, and smiled. "That's quite alright, Caspian. I know how things appeared."

Peter, relieved that all the tears were over and done with, started to move back to his spot by Lucy again, but King Fitz stopped him.

"You'll have to forgive me, sir, but I don't recognize you four."

Peter glanced at Caspian, but Adeline spoke up for them.

"Fitz, allow me to introduce their Majesties, High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy."

The Archenland king looked stunned; he turned to look at the small young woman beside him, who grinned and nodded. He stood, reaching for Peter's hand across the table.

"It is an honor to meet you, High King, as well as your siblings." He turned to each of them, greeting them warmly. His wife copied him, insisting they all called her 'Izzy'.

It wasn't hard at all to imagine these two people taking in a small child to raise alongside their own. There was nothing but sweet authenticity in Izzy's questions regarding their sudden appearance in Narnia, and Fitz reminded Peter strongly of his own father, which surprisingly didn't pain him as he thought it would.

Yes, he decided, Adeline had good reason to adore this couple.

Their merry conversation carried on over lunch; Adeline shared her story of how she'd fled Tashbaan, evading the strange men on horseback, before reaching Amos's farm.

Here, she paused, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, and she glanced at Edmund, who rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, go on, then; but make sure you tell them how nice I was afterwards."

She laughed, and told Fitz, Izzy, and Caspian of Edmund tackling her off her horse, a tale that Fitz found greatly amusing.

"Lad, you'd be the laughingstock of Anvard if the soldiers there knew you'd done such a thing."

"Why is that?" Peter questioned, and Fitz's face crinkled into a broad smile, his eyes cutting sideways towards Adeline. She flushed slightly and suddenly found great interest in her plate, nudging the mushrooms back and forth with her fork.

Fitz grinned even wider at her reaction, before answering Peter.

"No soldier in his right mind would ever cross blades with Addie. They're all terrified of her; when she sets foot on the training grounds they all run, suddenly having places to be. But she always finds one cocky young newcomer who thinks he can best _the_ Lady Adeline."

"Well, now," grinned Edmund. "Looks like Amos didn't do you justice, Addie."

"Amos?" Izzy's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who is Amos?"

Peter quickly explained that he was the man who owned the farm they'd all met on; he'd no sooner finished than Edmund piped up, "Where is Amos, anyway? I didn't see him come in with you earlier."

"He stayed in the city," Peter said, "He insisted, actually; we told him he wouldn't be a bother to anyone here, but he wanted to find some work. Said he used to be a blacksmith's apprentice."

"Oh, do let's go and see him," exclaimed Lucy. "Ed and I left in such a hurry, once Addie fell ill, and we didn't get to say a proper goodbye."

The former patient flushed again, avoiding Izzy's sharp look.

"You were ill? What happened? Did you get hurt?"

Adeline hastened to tell her, "Nothing, really. Lucy's already seen to it. I'm a bit tired, but otherwise I'm quite well."

Izzy must have been well-used to Adeline's watered-down stories, because she turned to Lucy instead.

"What actually happened to her?"

Lucy hesitated; Adeline was giving her a hard glare from over Izzy's shoulder, and she was torn between honesty and pacifying her friend.

Edmund, apparently, had no such qualms.

"Well, we ran into a spot of trouble at the river crossing; Addie got hit with an arrow and it knocked her off her horse." He promptly ignored the threatening look Adeline was now sending his way, continuing, "She nearly drowned, and once Peter got her out of the water she nearly died from blood loss, and then Lucy discovered that the arrow had been poison-tipped, and so she almost died from the poison. And _then_ she almost died from the fever that the poison caused."

Peter would not have been at all surprised to witness actual sparks shoot from Adeline's eyes. Fitz's statement just moments ago began to make a bit more sense; any man in his right mind would do anything within his power to avoid that glare.

He wasn't sure if he admired Edmund's nerve, or worried for his safety.

Izzy had turned to face Adeline again, her face pale with worry and shock.

"Addie! How long ago was this?"

"Day before yesterday," supplied Edmund helpfully, permanently tipping the scales in favor of 'worried for his safety'.

Adeline spent the next ten minutes reassuring Izzy and Fitz that she was perfectly alright, that it had been a small wound anyway (Lucy looked like she was repressing her own tattling-tirade at that point), and she would be sure to get plenty of sleep tonight. Izzy tried to persuade her into heading upstairs for a nap, but Adeline flat out refused.

"I've spent all day yesterday and this morning resting; I'm _fine_, I promise. I would like to go see Amos, if there's a group of us going."

Izzy looked as though she wanted to argue, but kept silent even as her motherly eyes roved over every inch of Adeline's form, checking for signs of recent injury.

Edmund was not oblivious to this, and he must have decided to try and get back in Adeline's good graces, because he said, "Well, I'd certainly like to go, and I'm sure Lu would as well. You're welcome to tag along, Addie, if you like."

She shot him a semi-grateful look (an indication that he wasn't completely forgiven yet), and followed him and Lucy out of the room a few minutes later, leaving Peter to puzzle over the recent change in his brother.

/

Lucy supposed there wasn't really anything to be done for it, but the fact of the matter was, she and Edmund could not set foot outside the palace walls without causing a riot.

She and Adeline had dashed upstairs to change clothes while Edmund patiently waited by the front door, and once they'd come downstairs he'd looked at them both casually, something that Lucy wouldn't have noticed at all except for when his gaze moved to Adeline. She had changed from the creamy dress into her usual tunic and trousers ensemble, though perhaps the shirt was a bit nicer and she left her hair down around her shoulders.

Edmund, upon seeing Adeline, had got the strangest look on his face, and Lucy couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she was determined to find out what it was that made her brother look at Adeline like that.

Her concentration, however, was cut off abruptly when the first villagers noticed her and Edmund walking down the streets.

Narnians were overjoyed at their return, and even more so at the unexpected arrival of the two older Pevensies. Everywhere they went, they were pressed on all sides, people calling them and grasping for their hands.

She couldn't blame them, not really, in part because she was as happy as they were that she'd come back. England was alright, pleasant even, but when you have experienced a life of magical creatures and fierce battles, returning to a world of noisy machines and practical school uniforms was dull for anyone.

Still, when the three of them literally had not moved from one spot for almost twenty minutes because of the crowd, she was beginning to wonder if the trip to see Amos was really worth it.

Adeline came to the rescue, slipping her hand between people to grasp Lucy's and pulling her along. She stopped and grabbed Edmund as well, the siblings following Adeline to the edge of the mass of people. Surprisingly, nobody seemed to notice, not even when Adeline tugged them free and into a nearby alley, darting through until they reached a small alcove where they stopped, panting, listening for following footsteps.

"How did they not see us?" whispered Edmund.

Adeline gave a conspiratorial grin. "After a few minutes, they're less excited that you're standing there and more excited that everyone _else_ is excited. They'll notice you're gone in a few moments, but we'll be long gone by then."

Lucy exhaled slowly, thinking that Adeline was an absolute natural at this business of accompanying royals when they went out; she and Edmund would have surely been crushed if they hadn't left when they did. She exchanged a look with her brother and knew he was thinking the same.

After a moment Adeline had poked her head out, deemed the coast clear, and led them down the alley, but instead of going back out on the main street she led them behind buildings, in between shops and houses, sticking to the shadows where they had less chance of being spotted.

They made their way through the city this way, and amongst all the peeking and darting and running and shushing, it suddenly occurred to Lucy that they hadn't the foggiest idea where Amos was. She whispered as much to Adeline, who stopped short at the corner of a small, dirty pub.

"Oh, fudge." The girl said quietly, eliciting a chuckle from her two companions. They stood there in a moment of indecision, thinking, and Lucy had just started to say something when the door of the pub they were hiding next to suddenly swung open.

Adeline instantly shifted, placing herself between the two Pevensies and whoever came out that door; Edmund had moved slightly as well, just putting himself in front of Lucy, and she knew they would be quite safe here, this was _their_ city after all, but she'd heard even from her short time here that there were quite a few Telmarines who harbored a grudge against Narnia in general. Add to that the fact that whoever this was would be leaving a pub, and she knew better than to not err on the side of caution.

She peered over Edmund's shoulder, holding her breath and hoping it was only one person coming out.

A drunken man made his appearance, stumbling over the threshold. He reeked of sweat and stale beer; as he shuffled blearily out into the bright sun mumbled oaths fell from his lips. Lucy prayed he wouldn't notice them in his drunken stupor, but the man's red-rimmed eyes latched onto Adeline almost like he'd been looking for her.

"You there, girlie, where's e'ryone run off to?" his words were so heavily slurred that Lucy could hardly understand him, but if Adeline had she gave no indication, choosing instead to watch him silently.

This seemed to irritate the man, and he scowled before saying, "Girl ain't got no proper sense o' respect, thaswus wrong wif 'er, an' she gotta geddit knocked into 'er somehow…"

Before his words had fully registered in Lucy's ears, he had charged towards them, his steps no more steady but a good deal faster, and Edmund had grabbed her and pinned her to the exterior wall of the building, shielding her with his body.

Adeline stepped forward, splaying her feet and bracing her legs, and just as the man came within arm's reach she turned to the side and crouched slightly, catching the man's chest with her shoulder, reaching up to grab the back of his neck with one hand, and Lucy watched, transfixed, as she spun ninety degrees, pushing up with her legs and using the larger man's momentum to swing him up off his feet, over her shoulder, and he slammed into the cobblestones so hard the glass windows of the little pub rattled in their frames.

He didn't get up again, and Adeline looked satisfied with this, looking up at Edmund to make sure they were all right. Edmund nodded, once, before a noise behind them made him spin around sharply. Adeline tensed, moving around Edmund so she could see who it was, and her face split into a wide smile.

"Amos!"

The burly farmer stood in the alleyway, taking in the scene before him with an amused expression. His gaze went from the unconscious drunk at Adeline's feet, to the girl herself, before he asked wryly, "Didn't know who you were, did he, lass?"

Adeline returned his grin. "No, as a matter of fact, he didn't. He will when he wakes up, though."

Edmund snorted a bit at that, but smiled all the same as he released Lucy and she stepped around him, noticing that nobody in the vicinity seemed remotely surprised that Adeline, who didn't even stand five feet tall, had just bodily thrown a man twice her size over her shoulder.

_This is what Ed was talking about, when he attacked her,_ Lucy realized, and she wanted to laugh all over again at how she'd scolded him for possibly hurting Adeline.

Yes, she could have gotten hurt, but based off what they had just seen it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway. Adeline was the type of person to shrug off the pain, and take care of what needed taking care of, regardless of how miserable she happened to be. She was, as Lucy's father used to say, a _brick_, and Lucy felt her respect for Adeline multiply tenfold.

She jolted out of her reverie just in time to hear Edmund say, "We just came down to see you, actually; Pete mentioned you were trying to find work as a blacksmith?"

"Aye, and I've found it, too. C'mon, I'll take you to me shop."

They followed Amos down several more alleyways, before he opened a weathered set of doors on the back of a large rambling building. Adeline slipped through last, and he shut the door tightly behind her, pushing the bolt into place before moving to stand in the center of the room.

Lucy looked all around her; there was the forge over in the corner, with a large table holding a scattered assortment of tools and bits of greasy cloths, and there were a number of stalls along the back. It was a bit dark, but warm and rather cozy, and it wasn't at all hard to imagine Amos working here, his broad back and muscled arms hammering iron to mold as he willed.

Edmund was inspecting the tools over by the forge, and Amos was talking with him in great detail about each one, about its purposes and make. Her brother appeared fascinated, but Lucy glanced over and saw Adeline was standing off to the side, looking incredibly bored but grinning when she caught Lucy's eye.

"You know how men are, Lucy. Might as well make yourself comfortable; we're likely to be here for a while."

Lucy giggled, but had to admit she was right; Edmund was positively enthralled with the workings of the forge, and Amos was only too happy to have someone who wanted to ask questions. She glanced back towards the door and noticed a smaller forge, set against the back wall.

"Amos, what's this?"

That man looked up, peering over to where Lucy was pointing. "Oh, that's a goldsmith's forge. I've done a bit o'that meself, though no soul around 'ere has got any gold to work with. Hopin' there'll be somethin' soon, though. Always did like workin' with precious metals."

Edmund had more questions about Amos's line of work, before he noticed the position of the sun through one of the dusty windows.

"Oh, I'll wager it's approaching dinnertime, but we can't have been here that long, can we?"

"Not in the shop, necessarily," answered Adeline, "but it took us a good extra forty-five minutes to get down here through all the back alleys, and we'll have to head up that way too. We had better get a move on."

She moved to the door as she spoke, peeking out carefully before asking, "Amos, are you coming with us? You know you're more than welcome for dinner."

Edmund and Lucy were quick to second this, pleading with him to join them, but he shook his head.

"I've got work piled up to me ears, lass. But I promise, I'll come to see you lot soon."

After making sure he would indeed pay them a visit, they said goodbyes and crept back up the alleys, darting around corners and trying to avoid crowds as much as possible. They made good time, and it was just before dusk when they reached the palace gates.

Adeline was leading the way, her steps quick and light as she talked and laughed with them both, but when they spotted the carriage in the courtyard, the small gathering that was taking place at the bottom of the front steps she frowned.

"What's happened?"

Edmund shrugged, and Lucy made out the forms of her brother and sister, standing beside Caspian two or three steps up from the bottom. Fitz and Izzy were standing beside the carriage, which bore the Archenland coat of arms on the door, and were speaking urgently with a tall figure Lucy didn't recognize.

Suddenly Adeline gasped, loudly enough to catch everyone's attention, including the stranger, who spun around to see who it was. Lucy caught a brief glimpse of a classically handsome face, of chiseled features and she was close enough to guess that his eyes were a bright, lively green, and widened with shock.

"Lady Adeline?"

Adeline pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, then quickly removed it to say, "Lord Xaviar."

The man's face split into an astonished grin, and he crossed over to her quickly and pulled her into his arms, embracing her in a way that spoke volumes of just how familiar he was with her.

Lucy felt her eyebrows shoot up, and she could have sworn she saw Edmund's hand clench into a fist as they all stood and watched.

Adeline was returning the hug now, and after a moment Lord Xaviar pulled back, looking into her eyes, and said, "Thank heaven you are alright."

/

_**You know what to do. Hope you liked it.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thank you to those who have stuck with me so far. The stats are right around 400 views, which I find baffling. There're people all over the world reading my story, which I think is pretty awesome. Thank you so much for reading this, even if you don't review. I see the numbers keep going up, and it really gives my motivation a boost. *long distance high five of appreciation***_

_**Seaotter99**__**: Thanks for the review! Yes, Amos actually plays a fairly important role in this story, although I'm not sure you could classify him as a main character, but he's definitely a major one. I quite like him, and I'm glad you like Izzy. She's based off of my mother, who is one of the two most incredible people I've ever known. The other one of those two people is my dad, and I've put large bits of his character and personality into Fitz. So, basically, everyone, meet my parents, King & Queen of Archenland.**_

_**ANYway, here we go then. This is an obnoxiously long chapter. I tried and tried and TRIED to find a break so it wouldn't be so long, but no such luck. Sorry about that. Prepare yourselves for gobs of Edmund's wit, Adeline's kick-butt abilities, and a dash of feels.**_

_**Happy reading!**_

/

The doors looked exactly the same as Susan remembered, painted a soft white, with gold handles, set into an alcove between two marble pillars, on the eastern side of the palace. Opposite them was the balcony, open to the sea and open air, and the breeze softly ruffled her skirts as she stood uncertainly in the hall.

She knew it was ridiculous to be this nervous about a simple room, but every time she thought about what _that_ room was, and all that had taken place inside it over the course of a thousand years, her knees started to tremble and so she'd been avoiding the place for the past week, but lately it was all she could think about and she just wanted to get it over with.

Taking a deep breath, Susan reached and yanked the door open before she gave herself chance to think about it, and stepped inside, letting it close quietly behind her.

The Room of the Four Thrones had been rebuilt to its original design, with columns lining the sides and a roof made entirely of glass – that had been Lucy's favorite feature, she remembered with a smile – that allowed the sunlight in, pooling across the floor. She was quite alone, but she still kept her steps muffled, slowly making her way towards the small risen platform that ran the width of the room, across the front.

Coming to a stop just before the steps, Susan remembered how she'd felt that day, so long ago, when she and her three siblings had accompanied Aslan Himself up this very aisle. Her feet mounted the steps almost of their own accord, stopping again just before the throne that sat on the right, closest to the middle.

Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingertips over the knob on the end of the armrest, recalling how glad she'd been that she hadn't been placed on the end. Naturally, those positions had gone to the Edmund and Lucy, since they were the youngest, but suddenly becoming Queen (of a country you didn't know existed to begin with) had proven to be rather nerve-wracking, and the simplicity of being in _between_ two people, both of whom she trusted, had been a great comfort.

Susan smiled softly to herself, relieved. She had spent so long pretending it was all make-believe that once they'd returned she had worried that she wouldn't be able to remember, that maybe she'd tried too hard to forget.

What had Aslan told them, mere moments after her crown had been placed on her head? _'Once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen.'_

How foolish she was, to pretend it didn't matter anymore, that she was no longer a queen simply because she'd gone from royal robes to school uniforms.

_Aslan, forgive my unbelief_, she thought.

The doors opened behind her, and she knew without turning around who it was.

"I forgot," she said quietly, turning to see Caspian looking at her, his gaze warm but understanding.

"I tried to," he replied, "but I found that caused me more pain than remembering did."

For a moment neither of them said anything, content to simply be in the same room as the other.

"Caspian," she said slowly, "did you…wait for me?"

She wished she could say that she didn't care, that his answer didn't matter to her. But she knew that it did. Regardless of what happened now, she had to know if he'd missed her as much as she'd missed him.

He crossed the room with slow, measured steps. She did likewise, meeting him halfway and they stopped, standing close together but not touching, his eyes searching hers intently.

"Yes…and no." he finally answered. "My head told me to put it behind me, to find someone else. But I also knew that I had to wait, until I could give whoever it was I found all of my love, the way they would deserve." He paused, briefly, before continuing.

"My heart, however, was not willing to put you behind so quickly. Many times I found myself hoping, praying, that one day you would return to me, so that I wouldn't _have_ to move on." He stopped again, a smile beginning at the corners of his mouth and spreading upwards until it reached his dark eyes, eyes that were still locked on hers.

"And here you are," he said, almost a reverent whisper, "You came back."

She forced a smile past the lump in her throat. It was so like him to have never given up hope, all this time.

"I came back," she repeated, just before one of his hands reached behind her neck, the other on her waist, and he pulled her gently into him, claiming her lips with his.

Susan sighed against his mouth, sliding her fingers through his thick, soft hair and relishing the feeling of his callused thumb softly stroking the skin by her ear. His arm wound around her back, pulling her body flush with his, and he hummed contentedly when she wrapped her arms around his neck, and turned her head to deepen the kiss. It was sheer heaven, and even when they broke apart she could not keep the silly grin off her face.

He laughed slightly. "You do realize this time the age gap has only widened; are you sure thirteen hundred years isn't going to be a problem?"

His voice was teasing, and she grinned impishly up at him, playing with the strands of hair at his neck.

"I'm sure we'll find a way somehow. Just remember that since I'm older, I'm always going to be right about everything."

He smiled in return, looking deeply into her eyes before kissing her again, and she realized, in that moment, that the memories were a part of her, and that they couldn't be left behind; no matter how fast she tried to run, Caspian would always manage to catch up.

/

The training grounds of Cair Paravel were located just north of the city walls, with several wide fields reserved for practicing sword play, a large archery range, and the small, makeshift forge that was used to repair weapons as needed.

Edmund couldn't help but be impressed; clearly Caspian had put a great deal of effort into not just restoring the old citadel, but also improving it. It was still somehow unchanged, still the Cair that Edmund remembered, and he was glad.

They'd decided rather spur-of-the-moment to go and tour Narnia's training facilities; his sisters, Izzy, and Caspian had opted to remain at the palace, but the rest of them had started off earlier that morning. And within forty-five minutes of their arrival, Adeline was clearly regretting coming along as well.

To everyone's surprise except Fitz's, the appearance of Lady Adeline had caused quite a stir amongst the soldiers; Edmund realized that once again he'd underestimated her. She was much more than just partaker in a great battle. She was something of a legend, a fact that was evidenced by the gawking soldiers and the frequent requests to demonstrate a particular skill in front of a group of trainees.

She declined more times than not, though every so often Fitz would nudge her forward, and when she finished the applause was nigh on deafening. It would seem that _the_ Lady Adeline had earned respect from not just her people, but neighboring countries as well.

Edmund refocused on his surroundings in time to see the two soldiers who were sparring clash swords once again, the sound of metal filling the air as the men drew back, testing their footing, and attacked again. The men surrounding the sparring circle cheered, the noise deafening, and Edmund looked next to him at Peter, who looked to be having the time of his life; he'd always been the one who'd enjoyed this sort of thing.

Beside Peter stood King Fitz, and after him came Adeline, and then…_him_.

Lord Xaviar.

Standing in the courtyard that evening almost a week ago, Adeline had had to explain how she knew Xaviar. The look on the latter's face as he'd watched her sent uncomfortable goosebumps up and down Edmund spine, but if anyone else noticed they said nothing.

Xaviar had even mentioned, adding to Adeline's version of the story, that they'd danced together quite a bit their last night in Tashbaan, and Edmund would have to be blind to miss the suspicious gleam in Queen Izzy's eye.

His own mother used to get that very same look whenever he or Peter mentioned a girl's name from school; it didn't matter if they were claiming to utterly abhor said girl, if it was a girl and she was mentioned by one of the Pevensie brothers, their mother was going to ask questions.

It certainly hadn't helped, then, that Adeline had blushed fiercely during the entire affair, while Xaviar had stood, gawking at her as though he'd never seen a woman before.

By the time Adeline had finished telling of her meeting Xaviar at Tashbaan, Izzy looked as though she wanted to drag Adeline off to be fitted for her bridal gown, and Edmund knew, beyond any doubt, that he did not like this Xaviar fellow.

At _all_.

Edmund was not normally one to make harsh judgments. After all, his title, given him by Aslan, was the _Just_ King. But he had no more shaken Xaviar's hand – the latter had a _pathetically_ weak handshake, he was oddly pleased to note – before he decided there was something definitely off about him.

He was wise enough not to voice his thoughts; everyone else took an immediate liking to the man, so going to any of the others without valid evidence would only make him look foolish.

That did not mean, however, that he wasn't going to keep an eye on him. And right now, Edmund personally thought that Xaviar was standing _much_ too close to Adeline, bending slightly every so often to say something in her ear.

On one such occasion, whatever he said caused Adeline to turn a brilliant shade of scarlet, and to smile widely before she caught herself and schooled her features.

Little did Edmund know, right beside him, Peter was fighting the mad urge to laugh. Edmund's face was sullen, his brow furrowed and his fists were clenched, and when Adeline blushed again he was almost positive he heard something like a growl emit from his brother's throat.

He couldn't hold back the snicker; Edmund whipped his head to face him, his brown eyes flashing murderously.

"It's not funny, Pete," he muttered, "He's acting as though they're already betrothed."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ed. _You're_ acting as though you have claim to her. You've spent all morning glowering at him."

"I do not have _claim_ to her. I just think she could do better than him is all."

Peter rolled his eyes.

Normally his brother was the last person on earth to make hasty judgments. During their Golden Age Peter had come to rely greatly on Edmund's advice, especially when negotiating with other nations.

Edmund had a knack for diplomacy; it usually took him a few days to reach a conclusion on any matter of importance, and even longer when it came to people's character.

Peter frowned in thought; when you looked at that way, however, he realized maybe this made Edmund's obvious dislike of Xaviar all the more worrisome. Edmund didn't go by pure instinct, and on the rare occasions when he did, it usually was for a good reason.

Still, though.

He decided to advocate the high road. "Well, if you can't find a plausible reason to send nonverbal death threats to him for a solid hour and a half, then you should at least _try_ and be civil. For Addie's sake, if for no one else's."

Edmund looked a bit defeated at that, but nodded slowly as they both turned back to face the goings-on, just in time to see the end of the current match. Peter clapped politely along with everyone else, but a new contestant was already pushing his way into the open circle.

The applause cut off abruptly as the enormous man standing before them sauntered around the circle, looking for the entire world like a ferocious predator selecting his next meal. He towered over everybody else on the field, and Peter had never seen upper arms that were quite that big.

Peter's mind conjured up images of what this chap must do to those whom he bested in the practice rounds; to his surprise, the man came to a stop before Adeline.

"Care to cross blades, Your Ladyship?"

The title, meant as a term of respect, was practically snarled; the tension around throughout their little group doubled. However, Adeline said nothing, merely shrugging off her cloak and unsheathing her sword, stepping around him into the center. Peter knew a very real feeling of panic when nobody tried to stop her, even though fighting this man would practically be suicide.

Yes, she'd been fantastic all day. In fact, she was undefeated thus far. But all her matches had been against men who were average sized, or slightly above. _This_ opponent looked as though he could be half-giant. He dwarfed Edmund, who stood at least three inches taller than everyone else on the field, including Peter himself.

He heard a chuckle from Edmund. "Pete, she'll be fine. Just watch, you'll see. And if she is in over her head, Fitz is right there."

Peter knew he was right, so he tried to put his protective older-brother instincts aside and enjoy the show.

The man – _Omri_, Peter heard the soldiers around them mutter – took the first strike, using a side-swing that looked to be aiming for Adeline's neck. She blocked it effortlessly, and ducked under the crossed swords, her feet lithe and nimble on the loose dirt, and she went for his ribs. He blocked this time, and then began a series of blows and parries that Peter could scarcely keep up with.

His felt his eyes widen as the pace increased, the gleaming metal of the swords flashing under the midday sun.

Omri had a distinct advantage in regards to muscle, but Adeline more than compensated with her speed. Her feet were never still, and while Omri was using brute force, she danced around him, moving with an unearthly grace.

Suddenly he raised his arm over his head, swinging his sword like an axe, bringing it down so fast that it blurred, but Adeline side-stepped it, bringing the edge of her own blade up to rest, almost casually, against his Adam's apple.

Omri froze, panting, his eyes wide, and there was a deafening moment of silence before the crowd erupted into cheers.

Adeline lowered her sword, smiling a little as she stepped back. She bowed, recognizing the shouts and whistles that were meant for her, and she moved to step back into place beside Fitz when Omri shouted above the din.

"Rematch!"

Adeline paused, raising an eyebrow in question, but he stared her down, unyielding, and she sighed, walking back to her place opposite him.

"No swords." He said, and her back stiffened as she looked at him for a long moment. His expression did not change, and she turned and walked towards where Peter and Edmund stood, closest to her.

"Are you _mad_?" Edmund whispered, but there was half a grin on his face, and Adeline looked as though she wanted to return it as she handed him her sword.

"No," she replied quietly, "I'm angry. There's a world of difference."

Peter could hardly blame her; this fellow seemed determined to put Adeline in her place, all because she was a woman. Well, he'd learn soon enough. He was half tempted to feel sorry for him.

She turned around to face Omri again, and Peter noticed that the back of her tunic was already soaked through with sweat. Her hair was caught in a low bun on the nape of her neck, and there were wispy curls hanging about her temples and ears, damp with perspiration. Her face was flushed, but her eyes were bright and focused.

Adeline spread her feet, shifting for better traction, and Omri did the same, though he did not crouch as low as she, and he once again made the first move.

He swung his fist quickly, and she dodged, her knee coming up into his stomach, and he grunted. She moved behind him, but he spun in place and her fist came up to meet his jaw, but he grabbed her arm, and Peter couldn't stop his gasp as Adeline was lifted clean off her feet, swung over Omri's head, and hit the dirt, hard, behind him.

She lay on her back, looking winded, but Omri still grasped her arm and her other hand came up to dig its nails into the skin just below his elbow, drawing blood, and when he hissed and tried to pry her fingers off she swung her legs and hips straight up off the ground, bearing all her weight on her shoulders and neck.

Her legs wrapped around Omri's neck, ankles crossed behind his head, and with one quick pull, she flipped him over her, using his bulk as leverage to bring him crashing to the ground just in front of her, his head at her feet.

Omri lay still for a few moments, while Adeline stood up. There was dirt in her hair, and her face glistened with sweat and she winced, probably suffering from a sore back now, but she still looked confidently down on her fallen opponent, who did not rise again.

She started to turn away, and in that moment, as her eyes left him and met Edmund's, sharing a triumphant grin, it happened.

Peter didn't notice Omri reach for the knife, but an arm drew back and he saw the flash of silver hurtling towards Adeline. There was no time to shout a warning, but she'd spotted Omri's movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to face him, and for one horrifying second Peter tasted bile as Edmund started forward, but there was no need.

Adeline's fingers closed around the blade, catching it mere inches away from her throat.

Nobody dared to move, or hardly even breathe. She kept quite still, taking a moment to observe the knife, with its simple, blunt-ended, wooden handle.

She looked unimpressed, and calmly regarded Omri, who had risen to his feet and stood defiantly before her, his lip curled in disgust.

"Brave man, waiting until my back is turned." She said evenly, but there was an edge of steel to her voice.

Abruptly she flicked her wrist, flinging the knife into the earth at Omri's feet, with the handle sticking up at an angle towards her.

He looked from it up to her face.

"You missed." He said, smirking.

"Did I?"

Before Peter even realized she'd moved, Adeline had drawn the dagger hanging on her belt, and he felt his jaw drop when the blade's tip sunk into the very center of the handle on Omri's knife.

A perfect bulls-eye. Susan herself couldn't have done it.

Her jeweled dagger quivered slightly in place from the force behind the blow, and Adeline met his gaze again, this time doing nothing to disguise her displeasure.

Omri looked like he'd rather skewer Adeline, but she refused to be intimidated, her eyes turning a deep cobalt in her anger.

"Few men have crossed me and lived to tell it. Consider it a gift."

With her parting words she crossed to Edmund, retrieved her sword, and began trekking back up to the palace.

The Pevensies were swift to follow, Peter noticing for the first time the blood on Adeline's hand. He caught up, walking beside her, and he saw the dark look but knew he had to ask anyway.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." She replied shortly, never breaking her stride. Someone called her name behind them; he glanced over his shoulder and spotted Xaviar making his way towards them.

Edmund rolled his eyes, and Peter shot him a warning look over Adeline's head. She stopped to let Xaviar catch up, and he held out her dagger.

"You left this." She gave a small smile and took it, and as she did, he noticed the blood on her hand. He took it in his, gently splaying her fingers to reveal the long gash across her palm. It wasn't very deep, but ran from the base of her thumb to her pinky, and was still bleeding.

The three men looked up at her (Edmund did so reluctantly; he seemed to be trying to glare holes through Xaviar's hand that was still holding Adeline's). Her face was void of expression, but she glanced at Edmund, who smirked slightly, and one corner of her mouth twitched.

"His knife did that, when I caught it. I couldn't exactly let on, not in front of him anyway, but it should heal alright."

Edmund's grin was full-blown by now, and Adeline's matched it when he said, "Lucy's going to have fits when she sees you."

"Well, when she made me promise not to get injured, she ought to have known something would happen." Adeline retorted, "Because no matter what _I_ do, I end up bleeding or unconscious or having three near-death experiences in one go."

Peter and Edmund laughed, but Xaviar frowned, puzzled.

"When did that happen?" he asked, and Adeline started, wide-eyed.

"Oh, Xaviar, I forgot you weren't with us." She said, almost apologetically, and Xaviar's frown deepened.

"Us?" he clarified, and Edmund jumped in (Peter had to work very hard to suppress a snort).

"Yes, Addie helped _us_" – his voice held the slightest, almost indiscernible touch of sarcasm – "out in a spot of trouble and nearly died three times. It must have been while you were still at Tashbaan. Lu's a wonder with healing though, so Addie's as good as ever." He grinned broadly at her, and she returned it, much to Xaviar's evident displeasure.

"I'm glad Queen Lucy was with you, then," he said, "and that King Peter was there to help."

"Oh, Ed helped too, you know," Adeline was (innocently) quick to say, and Edmund's grin nearly reached all the way around his head, while Xaviar's face was a dangerous shade of scarlet.

At that point Peter decided to leave their group before he lost control of his laughter; he glanced over and saw King Fitz walking just behind them and slowed his pace to walk beside him.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" Fitz asked him quietly, his eyes trained on the threesome ahead, Adeline oblivious to the competition going on either side of her.

Peter chuckled, more at his brother than anything, and replied "Yes, it surely is. They both seem quite taken with her. Though I'm not certain Ed would admit to it."

"Aye, it's often that way. But between you and me, Peter," he paused, looking around to make sure they didn't have any eavesdroppers, "I hope to high heaven she chooses Edmund."

Peter's brows rose at that; he'd expected Fitz to side with Xaviar, but the man caught his look and nodded grimly.

"Xaviar's not a bad sort, but he's much too high strung. He's got a thing for flair."

Laughing, Peter questioned, "Flair?"

"You heard me," Fitz responded, laughing a bit himself, but sobering again quickly. "Addie would be content anywhere; she doesn't need finery to be happy. Xaviar's the type who wants marble halls and jewel-encrusted dinner plates. And he thinks it odd that she's not used to that, having grown up as she did."

"Is that such a bad thing, to want to give her the best?" asked Peter.

"No, but Xaviar takes it a bit further than that, you see. It's almost as if he _decides_ what other people want."

Understanding dawned, and Peter nodded slowly as he processed the information. "Whereas my brother…"

"Whereas your brother would gladly give Addie whatever _she_ wanted, and demand nothing in return." Fitz answered for him.

Peter glanced ahead. Adeline hadn't a care in the world, but every so often Edmund would touch her arm and point out something in the city, and she would smile, which would in turn cause the scowl to become further etched into Xaviar's face.

"Well, whomever she chooses, the other will be sorely tested to admit defeat. Especially if it's Edmund. He's got a competitive streak a mile wide. Though he's always seemed to know when enough is enough."

"He's got a distinct advantage, then, because Xaviar has never _admitted_ to anything. He runs his own world with himself at the center, and whoever gets in his way is going to know it."

Peter's brows rose. "You do not think very highly of him."

The king sighed, looking older than usual.

"He's not all that bad, I suppose," he admitted quietly, "but it is hard not to resent him. He is the new rightful heir to the throne, now that Gwen is gone."

Peter didn't know quite what to say to that. He'd never met Gwen, of course, but losing your daughter the way this man had could not have been easy. Watching another take her place would only be salt in a wound that was still fresh.

Choosing his words carefully, he said, "I never did tell you how much we sympathize with your loss, Fitz. I didn't get the chance to meet Gwen, but from all I've heard she was a princess worth being proud of."

The older man gave a small smile, indicating his appreciation, and the two walked in silence for the remainder of their short journey.

/

Adeline was not one you could describe as "flighty".

She was level-headed, always calm and collected even when faced with the most agonizing of dilemmas. She could sit down and think anything through, and come up with a solution that helped all parties involved.

So why, _why_ was she so confused?

When she'd been at Tashbaan, Xaviar had never been far from her thoughts. Gwen's death, and then the soldiers had chased everything from her mind. Upon her arrival at Amos's farm, the mere relief at not being hunted anymore had preoccupied her; of course, said relief was short-lived, and the following week or so as they travelled hadn't exactly provided her much time to think about romance.

The reasonable thing now, of course, would have her be in a state of joy at seeing Xaviar again. And naturally, she _was_ glad. And, it would appear, so was he.

But something was different.

He seemed so much more…_aggressive_ now. Izzy had told her privately that he was to inherit the throne, seeing as Gwen was dead, and while she was happy for him, and had confidence in his abilities as a future king, she couldn't help but wonder if his new place among the royal family would be for the best.

She could always feel him watching her, and she knew that a month ago the sensation would only make her blush and trip over something, and then he'd probably catch her and say something witty, and she'd laugh and then they'd go for a stroll together. It was just so simple, before Gwen had died.

Now, his eyes on her made uneasiness curl uncomfortably in her stomach. She might have imagined it, but once she thought there had been an almost possessive look to him, especially whenever she mentioned Edmund's name.

Edmund. The other half to her problems.

_Why_ that man couldn't just leave her alone, couldn't just let her _think_, was beyond her. It seemed that every corner she came around, he stood there, waiting for her or thrilled to see her, at least. Which was nice, she supposed. But a tiny part of her couldn't help but wonder if he did it on purpose to get a rise out of Xaviar.

Not that she could blame him, mind you. Xaviar in a temper _was_ rather funny, but she felt a bit hurt that Edmund would use her that way.

_Maybe it's not a game to him_, a voice in her head piped up. _Maybe he's actually jealous and likes seeing Xaviar the same way. Maybe - _

She shook her head, clearing it, and took the steps to her room two at a time. She had about ten minutes to get ready for lunch; she couldn't exactly go as she was, dusty and sweaty and with her hand bleeding.

She scowled as she observed the cut on her palm. That blasted _pig_, Omri, thinking he could thrash her just because she was half his size.

Being as petite as she was, Adeline was long used to people thinking her to be weak. She didn't feel insulted by it, because she honestly couldn't blame them; it wasn't like _she_ trembled in fear whenever she looked in a mirror.

What drove her absolutely up the wall, though, was being thought of as weak, even after she'd proven she was anything but.

Sighing, she went to wash her hands and change into a clean dress. Working herself into a temper wouldn't help matters, and anyway she didn't have the energy to spare, harboring anger at a useless fool like Omri.

She'd just taken her hair out of its bun when a knock sounded on the door; Edmund stood on the other side, and when he saw her, his mouth swung open. For several long moments neither of them said anything, and she grew increasingly nervous under his intense gaze.

"What?" she finally asked, slightly irked when he still didn't speak. Slowly, tentatively, as though he might frighten her, one hand reached out to finger a strand of hair that lay over her shoulder, his eyes riveted on the golden curl. She looked at his fingers, at the gentle, almost reverent way they were caressing her hair, and felt her face grow warm.

Suddenly he dropped his hand, clearing his throat and taking half a step back.

"Erm…Su asked me to come walk you down to lunch. If you're ready, that is."

Trying not to feel the emptiness when he stopped touching her hair, she felt her precarious hold on her temper break.

"_You're_ escorting me? Where's Xaviar?" she asked, her brain catching up a second too late. She wanted to pull her own tongue out when Edmund's face morphed into one of shock.

"Xaviar?" he echoed, eyes wide. "Er…he said he needed to go see Amos, something about gold, but I dunno when he'll be back, exactly. If you like, I can go fetch Pete to come walk with you, or I can- "

She cut off his babbling, feeling even worse when she saw how seriously he'd taken her.

"Ed, I'm so sorry, I did not mean that the way it sounded. I'm…I'm frustrated, and I took it out on you. Forgive me."

He nodded, once, before she turned to hastily braid her hair; a few moments later the pair was walking down the corridor, in a slightly awkward silence.

They'd just reached the bottom of the staircase when Edmund suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling her in the opposite direction towards the side veranda. He led her down the steps into the little garden he'd shown her on her first day here, and once they stood beneath a small willow tree he turned to her, grasping her upper arms and looking at her almost fiercely.

"What's bothering you, Addie?" he asked, and she blinked.

"Oh, well…erm –"

"Adeline." His voice was gentle, but left no room for arguing. She sighed, thinking that maybe talking about it would actually help matters.

"That whole business with Omri this morning, it just irritates me when men do that, that's all."

"No, that is not all." His deep brown eyes were so earnest, so pleading, that she felt her resolve crumble just looking at him.

"You and Xaviar are driving me mad." She finally admitted, and his grip on her arms slackened, before tightening again.

"I'm sorry, Addie," he said, "I ought not to test him the way I do."

A deaf man couldn't have missed the sincerity in his tone, but Adeline wasn't finished just yet.

"Why do you do it, Ed? You're both my friends; is there no way you could ever get along with him?"

Edmund snorted slightly and released her. "Believe me, Adeline, Lord Xaviar wants a great deal more than your _friendship_. He stares at you the way a man crawling through the desert stares at a glass of water."

"You think I haven't noticed?" she snapped. It was his turn to blink in surprise now, and she rushed on before he could say anything.

"Aslan's mane, Edmund, did you think me blind? I _know_ he stares at me; I can feel it all the time! But _you_," she said, jabbing him in the chest, "would do very well to set a better example, because maybe if you didn't give him reason to be jealous he wouldn't feel that ogling was necessary!"

He looked a bit stunned as she stepped back, breathing hard and face flushed. She couldn't blame him; she hadn't shouted at anyone like that in goodness knew how long.

After a moment he cleared his throat awkwardly, and took a step closer, taking her hands in his.

"Adeline, I'm truly sorry. You're right, Xaviar is your friend, and a guest here besides. And you deserve better than that."

She chanced a look up at him, and saw that his eyes were glued to her face, searching for signs of forgiveness. The moment she made eye contact he grinned hugely, looking so much like a small boy trying to appease his angry mother that she couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of her.

He looked immensely pleased with himself, having made her laugh when she was supposed to be angry, and his smirk only intensified her giggles.

When at last she could speak again, she swatted him lightly, saying, "You are positively incorrigible."

He chuckled. "Yes, but that's what makes me so terrific, you see."

"Mm, yes, your humility as well."

In such conversation they turned and headed back up the garden path, Adeline feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

/

_**Whew. Finally done. Apologies for the long-windedness that is this story. Hope you liked it – leave me a review so I'll know if you did!**_


	10. Chapter 10

Edmund stood at the railing of the balcony, enjoying the sunrise over the Great Eastern Sea. He could hear the water nymphs singing on the rocks below. The music reminded him of the Golden Age, when he had ruled with his brother and sisters as a King of the Prophecy; a sudden wave of nostalgia hit him, and he was so lost in his thoughts that when a voice sounded from behind him, he jumped slightly.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Izzy joined him, her arms crossed around her middle.

In the early morning light, Edmund thought she looked exhausted. Her eyes were red-rimmed, skin rather pale, and despite the fact that he'd met her less than two weeks ago, he thought she might have lost a good deal of weight recently.

But of course, none of those things surprised him. He'd never met Gwen, but with parents as loving as Fitz and Izzy were, it was no surprise that they were heartbroken over losing her. He remembered the first few weeks after his parents had been killed. He'd lost so much weight that he'd passed out after climbing the stairs to their flat one day, and it had taken a dreadful shouting match to keep Peter from taking him to the hospital.

It was different, still; he didn't lose a child. But it was hard regardless, losing someone you loved, someone you thought would be there much longer than they were. All things considered, Fitz and Izzy were both doing quite well, for only having lost their daughter a little over a month ago. Edmund knew a large part of that was because of Adeline.

She was all they had left now, and she knew it. Constantly, Adeline seemed to be checking on them, making sure they were alright, that they didn't need her for anything. Part of it, Edmund guessed, was because despite however close she was to the royal family, she was still a glorified servant. But most of her concern stemmed from her genuine love for them.

"Edmund, may I discuss a…personal issue with you?" Izzy broke into his thoughts again, and it took him a moment to adjust to the abrupt seriousness.

"Certainly."

The queen paused, looking out over the water, then back to his face.

"What is your opinion of Adeline?"

"Adeline?" his mind whirled with the possible ways this conversation could go. "Er, I think she's great. Brave. Loyal. Strong. All those type things."

Izzy didn't seem too satisfied with his answer; her eyes searched his face earnestly as she replied, "Edmund, those are attributes that Adeline possesses, attributes that a simpleton could see without difficulty. I wish to know _your_ opinion of her."

Edmund thought for a moment, still unsure of where this was headed, but mentally shrugged. He'd know Izzy's reasons sooner or later.

"Addie…she is unlike anyone I've ever met." Warming to his topic, Edmund continued, "She refuses to let anything scare her off from doing what is right, what is expected of her. I've seen her kill soldiers effortlessly, but I've also seen her weep over the loss of your daughter, not just for her pain but yours as well. She has a strong will, but a tender heart."

When he finished, Izzy stood looking up at him with a small grin on her face.

"Something you may or may not know about Addie," she said softly, "is that she has never had anyone to take care of her. She is very much used to caring for people, for being the person responsible for the welfare of others. She is not accustomed to someone else doing that for her."

"Well, with her position in Anvard, I'd say that was rather natural." Edmund observed, and Izzy nodded.

"Yes, it's perfectly normal for a bodyguard to think that way. But Addie is not just a bodyguard, Edmund. She is a woman, the only daughter I have left. And a small portion of my heart yearns for a man to show her tenderness, and caring, to take care of her with love and gentility."

Edmund, wondering if perhaps Izzy had been oblivious during the past several days, asked, "Well, is Xaviar not planning on pursuing her?"

Something flashed through Izzy's green eyes, startling Edmund with its intensity. It was a look of fear and anger, anger that Edmund would never have expected from the mild-tempered queen.

It was gone just as quickly, however, and she said evenly, "Xaviar may be planning on pursuit, but pursuing a woman is only effective if she allows herself to be caught. Adeline does not return Xaviar's interest, I can assure you, Edmund."

"Well, she's fooled me, then," Edmund muttered, half to himself. Izzy's eyebrows rose.

"Have you asked for her, Edmund?" The excitement in her voice was impossible to miss.

"_No!"_ The word came out more forcefully than he intended, and Izzy's face fell.

"So, she does not please you? You do not find her appealing?"

"I never said that," he said without thinking, and felt the heat creep up the back of his neck when the grin returned to the queen's face.

"Edmund?" her tone wasn't teasing, but hopeful, and he decided he might as well tell all. It wasn't as though she didn't already know, anyway.

"Adeline is an extremely beautiful woman, Izzy. I've always thought that. We've developed a friendship over the past couple of weeks, a friendship I am grateful to have. But that does _not_ mean she would welcome my suit, if I were so inclined to offer it."

"Edmund, you may have two sisters, but I'll think women will surprise you every so often if you're not careful." She replied. "And as for this nonsense of _'if I were so inclined to offer it'_, well, it's utter rubbish. I see the way you look at her, and so does Xaviar. That's why he doesn't like you, you know. He can't stand to have competition."

Edmund's jaw hung open as he stared at the woman before him. Never in all his life had he been so floored. He recovered and said, "That doesn't mean anything, Izzy. What makes you think I'm planning to pursue a relationship with Addie? What makes you think I want to?"

His voice had gotten rather defensive near the end, but Izzy wasn't budging.

"Can you look me in the eye, Edmund, and truthfully, honestly say that you have _no_ romantic interest, whatsoever, in Adeline?"

He opened his mouth to say, _'yes, absolutely, I do not have any romantic interest in Adeline at all'_, but the words got stuck in his throat. He stood, looking down at Izzy, whose grin got wider with every passing second, and he felt the blush come to his face as his eyes widened.

"Izzy, what am I to do?" he asked, astonished at his sudden epiphany. "I can't be in love with her already, I haven't known her long enough for that."

Her face softened, looking slightly sorry for him, and she said, "Perhaps you should not make any changes, Edmund. She seems to be content with friendship at the moment. I say start from there, and find little ways to express your interest without making her uncomfortable."

Edmund's head was still spinning, but he knew he'd better ask Izzy now while he had the chance.

"How do I do that? Clearly she's not comfortable with open staring; I can tell she doesn't like Xaviar when he does that."

"You're on the right track, dear, but I'm sure you'll think of something."

With that statement she patted his hand affectionately, and walked back inside, leaving Edmund alone with his muddled thoughts once more.

/

Peter dearly wished he'd said no. But Adeline had looked at him with those great big ocean-blue eyes, and he'd heard himself agree before he even realized what he was agreeing to.

"It's dreadfully hot, Addie." He complained, earning an eye-roll from the girl walking beside him.

"Amos will have some water for you." She said matter-of-factly. He could tell she was trying not to smile, so he let out an extra loud groan.

"But I want it _now_." His whining voice would have gotten his ears boxed by his mother if she'd heard it; as it was, Adeline lightly smacked the back of his head, her smile full-grown now.

"You're ridiculous, Pete." She said, laughing slightly. "But we're almost there, come on, it's just down this way."

She led him down a small side street, coming out just across from a large, weathered building. She pulled the doors open and he followed her inside, where he spotted their friend working over some harness at a table.

"Peter!" Amos exclaimed upon seeing him. They shook hands warmly, and the farmer gave Adeline a quick hug before pulling back and grinning warmly.

"What're you two doin' all the way down 'ere? No important business to tend to?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could work on something for me," Adeline broke in. She pulled her small knife out of its strap on her ankle, and held it up for Amos to see. "The blade's all dulled; I can't find my whetstone anywhere. Could you sharpen it for me?"

"Aye, no problem a'tall, lass. Just a moment." He carried the knife over to the table, leaving the two of them to explore a bit. Peter had never been here before, so Adeline pointed out a couple of things to him. He wandered over to the side, where she'd said there was a smaller forge for working with precious metals.

Another worktable stood just before this furnace, scattered with a few small tools. A small, polished wooden box sat in the center, looking rather out of place, and he turned to Amos, who was just handing Adeline her newly sharpened knife.

"Amos, what's this?"

Looking rather uncomfortable, Amos replied, "Oh, that's a bit o'work I'm doin' for Lord Xaviar. Came to see me couple days ago, he did. Haven't gotten 'round to it yet, though."

"What is it?" Adeline wanted to know, and Amos stepped forward to lift the lid of the box. A gold square sat on a velvet cushion, gleaming dully. The square was about three inches across, and looked rather thick. It was carved luxuriously, with a large 'X' dominating the design.

"Lord Xaviar said he used to have two o'these. Wants me to make a copy o'this one."

Peter had been leaning in to study it closely, and turned to ask something else when he noticed Adeline's face.

Her skin was chalk-white, down to her lips, and her eyes were riveted on the gold ornament as though it was a bomb about to go off. She didn't seem to be breathing, but the look on her face was far from expressionless. Peter had never before seen a look of such anger, fear, disbelief, and sorrow all rolled into one.

"Amos…you're…you're quite certain this belongs to Xaviar?" Her voice was even worse, shaking slightly and deathly quiet.

Amos seemed just as perplexed Peter, but he nodded and said, "Aye, lass. It's his."

Her eyes slid shut, and her whole body trembled once, twice, before she snapped her eyes back open and looked at Peter.

"We need to go. Amos, I would like you to come with us please." She reached and took the gold square out of the box, leaving neither of the men room for argument as she spun on her heel and walked out the door.

They followed quickly, having to hurry just to keep up. Her legs were far shorter than either of theirs, but her pace had them all slightly out of breath by the time they reached the palace steps.

When she gained the entrance hall she turned to face them, her eyes nothing but expressionless stones now.

"Peter, please have everyone meet in the dining room. I'll join you shortly."

Peter couldn't find it in himself to question her, so he nodded once and led his friend down the hall, while Adeline took the stairs two at a time.

He glanced over at Amos, and saw his own dread mirrored there.

Whatever this was about, it was safe to say that none of them were prepared for it.

/

Edmund's morning had not improved since his chat with Izzy. All day long he'd avoided eye contact with Adeline, fearing that his undecided feelings for her would be too obvious if she looked at him. He felt a tad guilty, but he shook it off, telling himself that he could not, would not pursue any sort of romance with her, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He gave himself a mental kick. _That's the sort of thinking that gets you in trouble, mate,_ he thought. _You don't want that, not with her._

The library door creaked open, and to his surprise Peter stuck his head in.

"I thought you were going to see Amos with Addie," he stated, and his brother shook his head, looking a bit troubled.

"Adeline wants to see everyone in the dining room. Right away."

More confused than ever, Edmund set his book down and followed Peter down the corridor. His brother didn't speak, taking the stairs quickly and gaining the dining room door, and stood by to let Edmund through first. He saw everyone else gathered around the table already, and Amos stood in the far corner.

"Does anyone know what's going on?" he finally asked, and Xaviar gave a snort.

"Does Lady Adeline not tell you these things?" he said contemptuously. Edmund didn't even have a chance for a decent eye-roll before Adeline appeared in the doorway, looking deathly pale.

She ignored everyone in the room, her eyes zeroing in on Xaviar. She approached him slowly, and Edmund noticed that her knees were trembling almost imperceptibly; when she reached the table, standing across from Xaviar, her hand came up and placed something on the tabletop. Her fingers shook as she withdrew them, revealing a gold square of some sort.

"Is this yours?"

Xaviar glanced carelessly down at the object, then back up to her face. "Yes. I use it to fasten my cloak to my shoulders when I wear my armor."

"Did it once have a twin?"

"Yes. I lost it, I know not where. I've asked your friend Amos to make me another."

Adeline took a deep breath, but her voice still shook. "Have you ever lent these to anyone? Has anyone ever taken them without your knowledge?"

Looking offended by the mere idea, Xaviar replied, "Of course not. This is my family crest."

Adeline's face turned even paler, if possible, and she reached, slowly, and pulled out something that was tucked into her waistband, setting on the table beside the gold piece.

Edmund craned his neck a bit, and when her hand withdrew again he saw that the second object was identical to the first, a lavishly carved square, thick and heavy looking. It was a perfect set.

Xaviar's face broke into a broad smile. "I thought it was gone, Adeline, where did you find this?"

When no reply came immediately he looked up at her; her face looked impossibly white, but her eyes had turned to a deep cobalt color that Edmund recognized as a sign of anger.

"I've had it all this time, Xaviar," she said quietly, and his brow furrowed even as he leaned over the two squares in interest.

"How did you come by it?" he asked.

"I tore it off your robes, the night you murdered Gwen."

Xaviar went utterly still, his eyes slowly travelling upwards till they met Adeline's. He said nothing, and after a moment Adeline's fist clenched where it rested on the table.

"You didn't miss it, did you?" she asked, gesturing to the gold square. "You forgot that when I attacked you that night, minutes after you ran your sword through Gwen's chest, that I ripped this off your robes. I hit you with it, as I recall."

"You can't prove anything." Xaviar snapped, and Adeline drew her dagger, placing the very tip under his chin. Slowly, she forced him to tilt his head back, moving the blade to rest on a faded pink scar on the underside of his jaw.

Adeline's face twisted into a terrifying smirk. "I think that I can, Xaviar."

Enraged, he shoved her dagger away and stood to his feet. "This is ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is that you sent a band of rogue soldiers to hunt me down." Adeline snarled. "They did a shoddy job of it, too, because they didn't catch up until I stopped at Amos's farm. I'd thought I had lost them, but I managed to get all of us out of the house before they set it on fire. The fools probably saw the blankets and pillows I'd put in all the beds and thought we were sleeping."

She paused, face still pale but beginning to flush in her anger, her eyes almost a midnight blue. Xaviar had gone completely white, and his mouth kept opening and closing as though he was trying to answer, but no words came.

Adeline went on, her voice laced with pure venom that made Edmund's blood run cold. "Did you know they almost killed me, Xaviar?"

"I didn't know it was you!" he shouted, and her voice rose to match.

"You didn't have a clue who it _bloody_ was, did you, you just saw someone standing in your way of becoming king! She was your cousin, Xaviar. How _could_ you?"

"Don't you understand?" he bellowed. "I did it for you!"

Adeline froze, what little color that had come with her anger draining out of her face again.

"What?" she choked out.

"Gwen was a fine princess, and would have made a fine queen. But _you_, Adeline." his eyes ran the length of her body in admiration. Edmund felt his fingernails dig into his palm as he worked to keep hold of his temper.

Xaviar continued, "You were born to rule. You will make the finest, most wondrous queen Archenland has ever known. You have beauty and grace that are unequalled among women. With you by my side, we will be nigh invincible."

The room was silent as the grave. Fitz and Izzy looked numb with shock, and Adeline looked like she might be sick. She swallowed, trying hard to pull herself together.

"Lord Xaviar, I would not marry you if you were the last man to be found in all the world, to Aslan's country and beyond."

She'd hardly finished speaking before she turned and nearly ran out of the room; Edmund caught a glimpse of her face, and it took everything in him to keep from running after her, from drawing her into his arms and telling her it would be alright.

Xaviar had other ideas, and he took a step towards the door, only to be stopped immediately by Caspian. The Seafaring King looked angrier than Edmund had ever seen him, but Xaviar wasn't having any of it.

"I'll go talk to her," he said, and Edmund would have dearly loved to punch him.

"The last thing you deserve," Peter said, stepping forward, "is to _talk_ to her. You don't deserve to even be in her presence. Get out."

Xaviar smirked, refusing to be put off. "I'll leave for now, Your Majesty, but I will return. And the Archenland throne _will_ be mine, even if it takes bloodshed."

"Brave words for a man who has no army," Lucy's voice was ice cold, and the young noble turned to her with a patronizing look.

"My dear little queen, it is folly to underestimate your enemy." He gave a mocking bow to her, pointedly ignored Fitz and Izzy, who still sat as though spellbound, and swept out the door, leaving behind a room of people reeling in shock.

A strange choking sound came out of Fitz, and Izzy crumpled against him. They seemed overcome at the moment; Lucy came forward and gently offered Izzy a handkerchief, but otherwise everyone sat in silence.

"Addie." Fitz managed, and Edmund saw that the king was looking right at him. "Edmund, Addie…please…"

He didn't even finish before Edmund was already out the door, practically running down the steps. His feet moved without him thinking, and he stopped just outside the small garden, Adeline's favorite spot, and cautiously peered through the doorway.

Adeline stood facing away from him, looking over the low garden wall that ran along the opposite side. It looked over the sea, and early evening breeze gently rippled through her hair.

"Come to say I told you so?" her voice was quiet, almost inaudible, but she knew he was there so he took a small step inside.

"No." his tone matched hers, and he wished she would look at him, would give him some indication that she wanted him to be there. He took another tiny step, then another, and kept going until he stood beside her. He kept his gaze out over the water, but he heard a tiny sniff and glanced down at her.

She wasn't crying, but looked like she might want to. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her tiny frame, and as he watched she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, but her shoulders started to shake despite her efforts.

He reached out, slowly, and grasped her wrist in his hand, stroking his thumb along her soft skin. Almost reflexively, she turned towards him, and he shifted closer, meeting her halfway and wrapping his arms around her as she buried her face in his chest.

Her hands were fisted in his shirt, and she sobbed wretchedly against him. He felt his shirt front grow damp, and hugged her even tighter, stroking her hair and rubbing small circles on her back, all the while wishing there were some way he could make it not hurt as much.

/

_**Yeah, yeah, I know. Crappy place to end it. But this story is far from over, don't worry, and I think you'll like the next chapter.**_

_**Apologies for the delay, and for the shorter chapter. Unless, of course, you don't like the longer chapters, in which case you're welcome. Heh.**_

_**Be a dear and leave a review!**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Hello, my dear readers. I am dreadfully sorry that this took so long. College is about to kill me – I had a major test to study for, but I've been grabbing and snatching spare moments to write when I can. I was determined to post this tonight, though. **_

_**I know my skills are far from stellar, but people are still reading it, and a few of you have even let me know that you like it. That means more to me than I will ever be able to express, and I would just like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my nerdy little heart.**_

_**Hope you like this installment; it's got a fair bit of one-sided fluff, and a smidge of angst. **_

_**Bon appetite!**_

/

The bright midday sun seemed to reflect off of everything – the polished stone floor, her sword, her hair, the buckles on her boots.

It was hot, but not unreasonably so; she still panted and could feel her shirt clinging to her sweaty body. Yet she pushed herself harder and faster, without mercy, until she felt her arms begin to quake. Parry, strike, duck, twirl, slash, repeat. The handle felt slick from sweat.

With a final swing, her sword sliced through the neck of the last dummy, the straw stuffing cascading to the floor along with the head.

Adeline gripped her sword tighter and wiped the perspiration off her brow with the back of the other hand. She took a moment to observe the carnage, trying to calm her breathing after the past several hours of heavy exertion.

The secluded courtyard in the back of the palace had been easy to find, walled off from any prying eyes, open only to the bright blue sky above. She'd come down the moment she'd awoken, not even joining the others for breakfast. She knew that at least Izzy would understand, and hopefully discourage anyone else from searching for her.

With little effort she'd found the closet of practice equipment, full of the straw dummies, and in short time her sword had been slashing through the air, the familiar rhythm bringing her frayed temper a strange sense of comfort.

Now, however, all the dummies lay in pathetic shreds all over the courtyard. She looked down to see the remnants of an arm at her feet; her hand started to shake uncontrollably and her gaze shifted to the blade of her sword. It was smeared with faded blood and dirt; she couldn't remember the last time she'd given it a thorough cleaning.

Sheathing the weapon with unnecessary force, she considered cleaning up her mess but then decided the servants were well used to it; this seemed to be the private training arena for the monarchs, and in any case she wouldn't know where to find a broom.

She left the same way she came, and after a bit of searching found it: a room with crossbows lining the walls, javelins on racks by the window, and shelves of armor and shields in the corner. A large table sat in the middle of the room, with a small pile of clean rags lying beside a squat little jar.

Once again, the familiarity of it all soothed her. She took a seat on one of the stools that fit underneath the table when not in use, and set her sword on the surface. The jar proved to be full of some sort of polish, and she set to work, determined to get every last bit of grime off her sword.

She grit her teeth, rubbing with particular vigor at some dried blood, and jumped when the door suddenly opened.

"Oh!" Peter looked surprised, then apprehensive. "Er, sorry, I'll come back-"

"It's fine," she broke in, "I don't mind."

How odd, she mused, that here she was a guest in his home, yet she was the one giving him permission to come or go. It spoke volumes of how highly they regarded her, of how much they thought of her as a friend and an equal, and for some reason the thought only added fuel to the already raging fire within her.

Peter seemed to sense her climbing temper, but took a small step into the room anyway. When she said nothing else he joined her at the table, leaning on his elbows, hands clasped in front of him on the tabletop. He watched her silently for a moment, appearing to be lost in thought, so it was a surprise to Adeline when he spoke, quietly.

"It's a fine sword."

Her motions slowed for the briefest of moments; she glanced at him, then back to the blade in her hands.

He was right, it was a fine sword. It was a gift to her from the Anvard nobles, after her victory over Telmar. They'd presented it to her at the ceremony when she'd been inducted into the Royal Guard.

Adeline cherished it, loving the way the slim handle fit perfectly into her hands, and the balance of the narrow blade worked well with her speed. It was a part of her.

"How are you, Addie?"

Peter's voice was still soft, but she jerked as though he'd shouted at her. She stopped working completely, meeting his eyes and finding genuine concern.

"I'm fine." She replied shortly, going to get more polish out the jar, but his hand stopped hers gently. Reluctantly, she looked at him again, and even though she'd been avoiding this conversation like the plague, she knew he didn't deserve the cold shoulder. She sighed.

"He did it for me, Peter. He murdered my sister because of _me_."

She felt herself almost choke on the words, but she stubbornly pushed the tears down, refusing to cry any more.

"No he didn't." Peter's tone had gone from gentle to mildly surprised.

She stared at him, confused, and he went on, "He didn't kill Gwen because of you, Addie. He killed her because he's a selfish monster. He's using you as an excuse to make it sound better, that's all."

Finding it a bit hard to breathe, she stood up.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she snapped, her temper leaping at a target, at anything to shout at, because all she'd wanted to do for the past two days was shout until her throat was hoarse.

"You shouldn't _need_ to feel better, Adeline." He snapped back, and she flinched in surprise. Of all the reactions and sorts of treatment she'd been expecting, anger was not one of them.

"Gwen is dead. I'm sorry, and so is everyone else, but it had nothing to do with you. Xaviar's mental, he's absolutely stark raving mad, and he's trying to play with your mind, get you to think that it's somehow entirely _your_ fault."

"It _is_ my fault!" she cut him off, her voice tight with anger. "You think I can just brush off the murder of my best friend? You think that I am completely innocent, that I couldn't have done something, anything differently? I _know_ I could have, Pete."

He watched her in surprise as she got up, pacing back and forth, pulling her braid of hair over one shoulder so her fingers could nervously fondle the bottom of it. Her movements were agitated, the result of bottling up every ounce of her anger and frustration for the past month.

She'd cried, mourned, wept, and grieved for Gwen. She'd dealt with the sorrow, but as of yet she hadn't had a chance to properly deal with the anger left simmering in her gut. It was so unfair, so cruel that Gwen had to die when she did, and nothing Adeline could do would ever bring her back.

That was the most infuriating thing of all. Adeline was good at taking charge; Izzy had called her a 'lifesaver' many times, and it was something she secretly prided herself on, the ability to have others rely on you, to be _needed_. It was where she did best.

But Gwen didn't need her anymore.

Adeline had never felt more useless in her life, and the irritation of it was beginning to make her temples pound.

She kept pacing, aware that she probably looked demented, and was probably scaring Peter to death, but she didn't care. This fury and resentment would drive her insane if she ignored it any longer.

She found that it felt much better to shout than to decapitate straw dummies, and poor Peter was the nearest animated target.

"Why are you staring at me?" she all but snarled at him.

To his credit, he didn't flinch, instead meeting her gaze calmly as he answered, "Because I want to make sure you're going to be alright."

Something in her snapped, and she grabbed the jar off the table and hurled it against the far wall, relishing in the sound of shattering crockery.

"I hate him," she spat, "I hate him _so much_. He thinks he's doing everyone such a favor, just killing off Gwen like that, thinking he's better suited for the job. I'll tell you now, Peter Pevensie," she rounded on him, and thought he might have looked a trifle intimidated, "He will _not_ be king. I don't care if I have to slaughter every last one of his men, I don't care if it takes me the next thirty years. The _only_ way he's getting to that throne is if he steps over my lifeless corpse."

His eyes widened slightly, and she realized how brash her words must have sounded. She considered taking a deep breath and rephrasing, if only for propriety's sake, but then decided that she meant every word.

He seemed to understand, a bit, at least, and he nodded, looking oddly pleased with her.

She stood there, trying to slow down her madly racing pulse and get the roar out of her ears, and he rose to his feet, coming around the table and hugging her. Surprised, she stiffened for a brief moment before returning the embrace, feeling the hot tears prickle at the back of her eyes.

She blinked stubbornly, and he pulled away to grin down at her fondly.

"Addie, you'll be alright. You'll see."

Most of her objected, quite strongly, to the idea of ever being anything but miserable. But deep down, a secret part of her believed him. She clung to his words, repeating them to herself.

_You'll be alright._

/

Much to Peter's relief, Adeline had joined them for lunch the next day, although she hadn't contributed much to the conversation. She'd sat and ate, which had pacified Izzy, and then disappeared again until dinner.

He knew he'd been a bit harsh, but he honestly believed that Xaviar was just playing with her. Her guilt still bothered him, but her reaction had proved that she would work past it on her own time. For now, all they could do was silently offer their support.

Thankfully, she had come back for dinner, and had shocked all of them speechless by asking Edmund to play chess. She seemed to be in much better spirits, even teasing Edmund occasionally, although her smile looked a bit strained at times, and no doubt she would be frequenting the practice arena in the near future.

At the moment, however, Peter wasn't worried; he was more concentrated on hiding his laughter at his brother. Edmund was practically giving the game away, which was rather unusual, since he was a natural at strategy, but his mind clearly was not on the game tonight.

The memory of Edmund very nearly knocking his chair over in his haste to fetch the chess board made Peter's shoulders shake with suppressed laughter, and it had become glaringly obvious over the past half hour why he'd been so eager.

The Just King spent very little of the game actually looking at the board; his eyes seemed to be constantly riveting on his opponent's face. Peter's grin threatened to stretch off his face when he remembered the conversation he'd had with Fitz a few days ago. Edmund was, without a doubt, smitten.

The question was, whether or not his pride would prevent him from admitting it.

"Oh, honestly, Ed, you call that a good move?"

"What's wrong with it?" the dark-haired king demanded indignantly, glaring down at the checkered board.

Adeline rolled her eyes, reaching down and knocking over his king with her bishop.

"_That's_ what's wrong with it, Eddy. Checkmate."

Peter fought the urge to laugh as his brother's face morphed into one of shock.

"You cheated."

It was Adeline's turn to laugh now. "How would I have cheated?"

"You distracted me." Edmund proclaimed, with his signature grin firmly in place, eyes locked on Adeline's.

"And, pray tell, how did I distract you?"

Instantly, Edmund's demeanor changed. His eyes widened slightly as though his words had just registered with him, and Peter saw him swallow heavily before opening his mouth to reply.

"Addie." Caspian strode into the room. He exchanged a brief, uneasy glance with Peter.

Adeline's head snapped to attention, her conversation with Edmund forgotten as she took in the grave expression on Caspian's face.

"What is it?"

He paused, unsure, and finally said, "You'd best come and see for yourself."

She frowned, confused, but got to her feet and followed Caspian out, with Peter and Edmund close on her heels.

Caspian didn't seem to be in the mood for chatting as he led them to the entrance hall, where Lucy and Susan were waiting. Adeline gained the top of the staircase and Peter heard her sharp intake of breath before he drew alongside her, and his insides dropped when he saw Omri glowering up at them from the bottom of the stairs.

"What do you want?" Adeline's voice was ice cold, but the enormous man wasn't fazed.

"I have a message for Lady Adeline, from the Heir of Anvard."

A silent beat later, Adeline's puzzled look changed to one of absolute disgust. She snorted contemptuously.

"Is that what that imbecile is calling himself now?"

Omri nodded, looking rather smug as he answered, "Prince Xaviar wished me to deliver this to your hand."

Peter noticed the muscle in Adeline's jaw clench, once, twice, before she took the steps – slowly – down, only until she was close enough to snatch the proffered slip of parchment. She immediately retraced her steps, gesturing for the five Narnian monarchs to follow her.

She slipped in the nearest empty room, a simple chamber with nothing but a few bookcases and a couple of chairs. Peter was the last inside, and he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, watching Adeline carefully.

She stood quietly, looking down at the letter with no small amount of trepidation written on her features, but suddenly the vulnerable look was gone, replaced with that familiar expression of emotionless steel. She ripped the seal, unfolding the missive harshly to squint at the handwriting in the dim light.

The message must not have been overly long; a few moments later her gaze moved to stare sightlessly at the wall in front of her, absently holding the letter between limp fingers. Abruptly, she crumpled the note in her hand, chucking it into the lit fireplace as though it had contaminated her skin, and she watched the flames lick at the edges as her bosom rose and fell rapidly.

Peter hadn't the foggiest of what to do, but he'd just opened his mouth to ask Adeline if she was alright when she suddenly crossed to the door, wrenching it open and fairly exploding into the corridor with the others at her heels.

She returned to the top of the staircase; Omri hadn't moved, but Peter noticed that his eyes widened just slightly upon observing how angry Adeline was.

"What is your rank?" she bit out.

Omri's smug expression returned, and Peter found himself resisting the temptation to smack it off his face.

"I was promoted to General yesterday. The Prince had need of a capable leader for his army."

Adeline hesitated, just briefly, and Peter knew what she was thinking – Xaviar actually had an army, which meant he had been quite serious when he'd threatened war. The moment of uncertainty passed, and Adeline raised her chin ever so slightly before speaking.

"Well, General, you may tell _Lord_ Xaviar that I have no intention of reconsidering anything. My answer is unchanged, and if he sends you back here again, my reply shall be given in form of your detached head sent catapulting over his castle walls."

Omri's jaw dropped open, and Peter's almost copied it. Before anybody could say a word, Adeline had spun on her heel and marched out the way she had come, head held high in the air. After a moment of stunned speechlessness, they all turned to follow her, leaving behind a dumbfounded general.

Adeline took turns and shortcuts almost haphazardly, reaching the private residence section of the palace in record time. She headed straight for a small sitting room on the far end of the corridor, barging through and not even apologizing to Fitz and Izzy, who sat on one of the low sofas.

She waited till the others had joined them, and Caspian shut the door just as she cleared her throat.

"Xaviar sent me a message." Her voice trembled slightly, and Fitz came to his feet, crossing to her and guiding her to sit in a stuffed armchair.

"What did it say?" he asked, and Peter was glad to notice that neither of the Archenland royals seemed to be angry – yet. Immediately becoming infuriated would hardly help matters, but he doubted their calmness would last after Adeline divulged the letter's contents.

"He wants me to marry him."

The words were said so quietly, so dejectedly, that Peter almost missed them, but even if he had, Fitz's response would have been a clue. Warm brown eyes hardened with anger, and his large hand squeezed Adeline's reassuringly.

"You're sure, Addie?" Izzy questioned softly, and Adeline nodded, looking more resigned than angry now.

"He said that it's all a big misunderstanding, that he needs me to be his queen, and that he's sure in time I'll see that Gwen's death was necessary."

A stunned silence met her words, broken only when Lucy said, "Oh, Addie, I'm so sorry."

Her voice sounded absolutely heartbroken, and Adeline smiled sadly before straightening her shoulders, trying to look a bit less victimized.

"Moping about it won't change a thing, Lu. Thanks though. I did notice something that Omri said. He mentioned an army – do you really think he's planning a revolution?"

Fitz didn't seem surprised by the news; he glanced at his wife before answering, "We've been receiving news of a suspected uprising for quite some time now. We didn't have any of the details; it was just significant enough for us to keep our eyes open. But now we know the leader, and that his assassination of Gwen had probably been planned for months."

Nodding slowly, Adeline mused, "I suppose he'll be hoping to attack while you two are away from Anvard, then."

"Most likely," agreed Fitz, "but that's only if we assume he's only interested in the Archenland throne."

"You think there's more?" Caspian asked, and Fitz shrugged.

"I've thought about it, and it doesn't really make any sense why he would wait to murder Gwen in Calormen. If he wanted her out of the way, then he could have snuck into the castle quite easily, since he's a relative."

"You think he was hoping to sabotage your relations with Calormen." Adeline supplied, looking aghast.

"Precisely. Didn't you say that the Tisroc had proposed only that night?"

"He did, yes. But he took her rejection quite well, in fact he seemed understanding. Gwen was very relieved."

"That's good," Fitz said, "because that supports my theory. Xaviar was trying to frame the Tisroc for Gwen's murder. A rejected marriage proposal could have very well angered him enough to send a guard to her chambers that night. What Xaviar wasn't counting on, however, was that you would find him, Addie."

"And he definitely wasn't counting on me figuring out it was him." Adeline continued.

"Right, that's a solid plan for deflecting the blame for the crime," interrupted Susan, "but what does that have to do with Xaviar's interest in other countries than Archenland?"

"If Calormen had been blamed for Gwen's death, then there would have very likely been war, or at least damaged relations. Overthrowing the current rulers would have been much easier, and so would have invading the other country. Once you have the combined armed forces of two nations behind you, then it's much easier to finish off the third. In this case, he'd probably have saved Narnia for last."

"You think he'll try us first, since Addie foiled his plan?" Edmund queried.

"He might." Fitz replied gravely.

"He's already got an army," Peter reminded them all, "though I'm not sure where he got it."

"My guess would be the giants of the north." Adeline supplied. "If his original plans have required altering, then he'll need forces that have an intense hatred for Narnia in general. There will most likely be a few Telmarine sympathizers amongst them as well."

Peter let out a long breath, the sudden gravity of the situation hitting him in the stomach.

"How much time do you think we have?" Caspian asked Fitz.

"Probably not very long. A week, at most."

The young king nodded turning to his fellow monarchs.

"That's settled then. Tomorrow, Narnia prepares for war."

/

_**Hope you liked. It was a bit shorter, but maybe it was okay anyways. Review!**_


	12. Chapter 12

Three days.

Three long, excruciating days, and still no word. No letter, no messenger, _nothing_.

Edmund drummed his fingers against the table in an effort to soothe his temper. He could feel the frustration rising in the back of his throat, fighting to come out in angry bellows that would have sent anyone in the vicinity cowering. He'd tried distraction, he'd tried venting with his sword in the practice courtyard, much like Adeline had done, he'd even tried visiting with Amos, and all to no avail.

"Have we tried instructing the messenger to report it as urgent?" he questioned Trumpkin, and his heart sank just a bit further when the dwarf nodded.

"We've tried everything, Your Majesty, short of sending a caravan bearing gifts. They're either ignoring us, or the messages are being intercepted."

The king huffed, absently brushing his hair out of his eyes – he was long overdue for a cut; his mother would have been horrified to see how long it was – and peering over the map once more.

"If there's still no word by noon tomorrow, send one of the griffins. If they still ignore that, we'll have to make extra preparations for larger forces."

Trumpkin nodded, his mouth set in a grim line before they parted, Edmund headed down to Peter's study and Trumpkin off to locate one of their griffins. The dwarf's footsteps faded off in the otherwise deserted corridor behind him, and Edmund let out a long, slow breath.

He didn't know why his nerves were so frazzled; since Xaviar's letter to Adeline, things had been rather quiet, with no further contact from the Rebellion. Their leader seemed to have taken Adeline's threat seriously, which had amused Edmund, which had in turn irritated Adeline.

"I wasn't trying to be funny, Ed." She'd reprimanded, her eyes rounded in surprise that he would laugh at this.

Seeing she looked a bit hurt, he'd hastened to explain. "Addie, I'm not laughing you; it's just that ever since you dueled Omri, I've been looking forward to the day you put him in his place."

Not even Adeline had been able to hide her smile at that, and the glow of mirth that had lit her face from within had made his breath catch in his chest.

Now, thankful for the unexpected moment of solitude, he closed his eyes, still unable to believe it.

What it was, exactly, that he felt for Adeline, he wasn't sure. But call it what you will, it was stronger, more protective, than the love he had for Susan and Lucy. It scared him witless, to be honest.

Friends, he could handle. For one thing, Adeline was right in between the ages of his sisters, so talking with her was similar enough that he was quite comfortable carrying on a lengthy conversation with her. Secondly, Adeline happened to be one of the few people Edmund had ever met who could keep pace with him in a verbal sparring match. Her sense of humor wasn't nearly as famous as her grit on the battlefield, but it had only taken two occasions of her matching him witticism for witticism, leaving him standing before her, gaping in shock at her quick tongue and merciless teasing, for them all to appreciate her lighter side.

It was easy to see, really, why he would be attracted to her.

What he couldn't understand, was why – and how – it had happened so fast.

His own parents had courted – if you could call it that – during the first Great War. Richard Pevensie had enlisted, packed his bags, and had one foot on the departing train intended for the trenches in southern France, when Margaret had pushed through the crowds, grabbed him by the knot in his tie, and kissed him solidly on the mouth in front of everyone. After three years of letter writing, and a welcome-home not unlike their goodbye, they'd married and settled in quite nicely to their post-war life.

His sisters had always loved their mother to tell that story, but right now it served no purpose to Edmund as it only encouraged relationships that were ignited hurriedly amongst the passion and tumult of war.

Somehow, he thought Adeline deserved better than that, and in any case they didn't exactly have time for him to wander off and pick her an armful of flowers and write her poems.

He gave a snort at that thought; Adeline hardly seemed to be the sort of woman easily wooed by flowers or poetry.

No, it would be better for him to ignore this ball of pent-up discomfort in his chest. Right now they all had more than enough to deal with.

Shaking off his odd mood, he reached his brother's study and knocked once, briefly, before entering.

Caspian sat before the High King's enormous desk, the top of which was covered with stacks of parchment, maps, and a few thick books. Both kings looked up in greeting, but continued their conversation as Edmund took the other chair opposite Peter.

"We can't count on the Isles to send help, though, and in any case there's every chance of the Rebellion attacking them before they can even reach us."

Peter nodded in agreement, before turning his blue eyes to Edmund.

"Any word from Calormen?"

Edmund shook his head. "Nothing. The Tisroc is either ignoring us, or the messages are being intercepted. Trumpkin is trying one of the griffins, but if that doesn't work then we'll have to assume Calormen has allied with Xaviar."

"Until then," broke in Peter, "do you think we should assign an extra guard to Adleine?"

Both the other men gawked at him, but he hastened to explain. "Adeline not only thwarted Xaviar's entire scheme, but she also publicly humiliated him by rejecting his marriage proposal. We've already seen that Xaviar's temper is nothing to laugh at, and I'm rather uneasy thinking of him possibly retaliating."

"You think Xaviar will try to harm Adeline because she won't marry him?" asked Caspian incredulously, but Edmund was already nodding slightly in agreement.

"Strange men do strange things. He might not try to kill her, but kidnapping or at least injuring her severely enough to ensure she wouldn't be able to fight isn't beneath him."

Caspian still looked a tad skeptical, but after a moment he agreed as well, though with a warning.

"You realize this won't be easy, convincing her to allow a guard."

"No, it won't be," Peter conceded, "but hopefully she respects us enough to allow it. If she's stubborn I can always write to Fitz and ask him to order her into agreeing. But I rather hope it doesn't come to that."

Edmund had to fight a grin at the image; Fitz and Isabella had left swiftly the day after Xaviar's message had arrived. They'd decided to leave Adeline at Cair Paravel, to help with the impeding war efforts, but their own castle at Anvard was virtually unprotected. But there was no doubt that Fitz would cooperate if they needed him to.

A soft knock brought the three of them out of their thoughts; it was a faun informing them that dinner was ready, and the queens and Lady Adeline were waiting for them. The door had no sooner closed behind the servant when Caspian suddenly turned to Peter and Edmund, his look unexpectedly serious.

"Might I ask you two something?"

For some reason, he sounded nervous, but Peter nodded encouragingly, and he pushed on bravely.

"I wish to wed Susan."

Several long, stunned moments went by, and Edmund glanced at Peter to see a knowing smirk on his face.

"Got tired of waiting, did you?"

Caspian let out a relieved bark of laughter. "Yes, I'm afraid we have. It's already been so long for us both, Peter; we were rather hoping for a small affair, something we could do quickly before the fighting starts."

The two brothers exchanged a glance; normally they would have to sit down and have a several-hours-long-interview to ensure the man's intentions, but they'd witnessed Caspian around their sister for almost a month now. Together, they faced Caspian and said, "Yes."

The grin on that man's face was enormous, and he further surprised both of them by giving them a quick, brotherly embrace before bolting for the door.

Peter chuckled, while Edmund braced himself for the girly squeals and hugs once they reached the dining room; Lucy was sure to have fits in her excitement, and would no doubt enlist her brothers in helping with wedding plans.

Sure enough, giggles and exclamations could be heard ten feet away from the door. Edmund crossed the threshold, warily, several steps behind Peter, and he had just enough time to spot the head of glossy chestnut hair before Lucy collided with his midriff, knocking the air out of him.

"Eddy! They're getting married, Ed, oh isn't it wonderful! Peter will hand her off, of course, and you'll have to do the officiating, and –"

She would have kept babbling, but her words suddenly registered and he cut her off.

"I'm doing _what_?"

Blinking as she tried to get her bearings after her tirade, she responded breezily, "Oh, the officiating. You know, since Aslan's not present, you're the obvious choice, Eddy."

"I am?" he asked stupidly, and he heard a soft laugh to his left. He glanced over and spotted Adeline, dressed in a sleeveless blue gown that made her hair look like molten gold. It took him a moment to realize Lucy was talking again.

"Of course you are. You're the Just King, Aslan's elected ruler of the courts and judges of Narnia. Peter's authority lies in warfare and diplomacy, but _this_ is right up your alley, Eddy."

It was his turn to blink in surprise, and he made the mistake of looking at Adeline again. She grinned at him, and right as he felt himself grinning back she said, "Come now, Eddy, say you'll do it for your sister."

He rolled his eyes, but knew he was already sunk.

"Alright, I'll be the official-whatever-it's-called. But I'm _not_ wearing flowers _anywhere_ on my person, Lu. Understood?"

She looked a bit dejected, but nodded in agreement before rushing across the room to discuss wedding gowns with Susan.

"I'm guessing you've not done a wedding before," came the soft voice at his elbow.

He snorted. "Not hardly. And if I had a choice I would rather not my first wedding be my sister's. It's bizarre enough as it is."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Eddy," Adeline reassured him quietly, but a moment later he turned to her indignantly.

"What'd you get roped into doing, then?"

She tilted her chin to face him, the stance familiar to them both by now.

"My task is easy; Lucy's having me bear the rings."

"What?" Edmund exclaimed. "That is _completely_ unfair; you ought to be Susan's attendant or something equally terrible."

"She did try for that," Adeline admitted, "but I managed to beg my way out of it, claiming it was more proper for someone in my position to bear the rings instead."

"You know, in our other world, the ring-bearer is usually a boy," teased Edmund, and Adeline's face flushed even as she laughed.

"Are you saying I look like a boy?" she threw back at him, and at that point Edmund's mouth decided to part company with his brain; he felt words come out before he'd processed them.

"Quite to the contrary, m'lady. There is none in this palace who could hope to rival you in terms of beauty."

There was moment of heart-thudding silence –thank the stars no-one else had been listening – and Edmund felt his collar grow distinctly warm. Adeline had immediately stiffened, avoiding his gaze (not that he was trying to catch it to begin with).

"Thank you." She said quietly, and Edmund's heart sank at the note of hurt lacing the words.

She had already started to move away from him, murmuring something about congratulating Caspian, and he knew he ought to have stopped her, ought to have said something to make it right again, but words failed him and she slipped away, leaving him alone with his very confused thoughts.

/

Adeline's feet wearily climbed the steps to her bedroom, anxious for the day to be over. The plans for the looming war were heavy on everyone's minds; still, it had been nice to forget all that for a few hours and bask in the joy of Caspian and Susan's betrothal. They had all sat round the supper table long after they'd finished eating, talking and laughing at Lucy's excitement over the wedding plans.

Well, it had been mostly enjoyable, save for the few moments when she'd accidentally made eye-contact with Edmund.

She sighed, trying to forget the flippant way he'd said those words.

_None could hope to rival you for beauty._

At least he hadn't laughed. But, try as she might to ignore it, the words had stung. Her pride had taken a beating with the whole mess with Xaviar, and she was doing so much better once Peter had spoken with her, but in truth she was having a hard time forgetting how different Xaviar had seemed in Tashbaan.

Adeline might be a seasoned warrior, but she was also a woman, a woman who had been flattered by a handsome man's attentions, and just short of crushed over the same man's betrayal. Her heart felt bruised, and Edmund's flippant comment over her 'beauty' had proven to be too much.

The man probably hadn't the faintest idea of how his words had affected her, so now he'd be wondering why she was acting so strangely around him.

_Men_, she thought despairingly as she entered her chambers, overjoyed to find that the ever-faithful Lela had drawn a steaming hot bath, leaving a fresh nightdress and the covers pulled back.

She shed her clothes quickly, more than ready for the soothing hot water on her sore muscles. She settled in, leaning against the back of the tub with a sigh.

There was no reason for her to rush, and her fingers were quite shriveled by the time she finally donned the nightgown and climbed into bed. She blew out the lantern, and settled in for a much deserved rest.

She liked the palace at this time of night; quiet, and peaceful, with no servants scurrying to and fro with missives and documents to be signed. The halls were hushed, and Adeline loved the silence that engulfed her as she felt herself drifting off to –

_Click_.

She frowned, on the very brink of sleep and unable to decipher what the strange noise was; whatever had caused, it had disturbed her and she had just convinced herself that she was imagining things when she heard it again.

_Click_.

Now more than a little awake, she peeled one eye open; she lay on her side facing the door, but nobody stood there. The room was quite dark, with just a sliver of light coming in at the bottom of her door.

There was no movement in the shadows, so she rolled to her other side, facing the window, and she had the span of two heartbeats to catch the dim reflection of light on the blade of a sword, and instinct took over as she rolled back to the other side, feeling the edge of metal graze the backs of her shoulders.

She grunted in pain, rolling back to face the attacker, lashing out one foot from beneath the covers and making contact with what she could only presume to be his stomach. There was a soft oof, and she quickly got to her knees, trying to determine the size and build of her opponent.

She felt the cool breeze move her still damp hair, and thought, _the window_, just before she made out an arm raised to strike, reaching up to block it and wrenching the long dagger out of the hand, and she pulled back and plunged it to the hilt in the man's stomach.

She felt the blood splash the front of her dress, staining the sheets, but before she could do anything else large hands grabbed her arms from behind, pinning them to her sides, and a cloth sack was slid over her head.

Her last thought before the painful blow to the back of her head was of Edmund, and she found herself hoping he was safe, and then everything was gone in a painful wave of black.

/

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, more than ready to be done with this blasted paperwork and head off to bed. His head ached horribly, but he'd put up a brave front during their impromptu celebratory meal for Susan and Caspian.

Despite himself, a smile curved his mouth upwards. He and Caspian had certainly had their differences, but both of them had learned to play the other's strengths. Now they worked seamlessly together, nearly as well as he and Edmund did. He would make Susan a good husband.

He picked up his quill, trying to get to the bottom of his current stack before calling it a night, but after a few moments he waved the white flag. He was simply too tired, and this mess would be here in the morning.

He blew out the lantern on his desk and closed the door carefully behind him. He nodded to the occasional guard he passed, but all was quiet until he reached second-floor north corridor.

He paused, straining his ears. Surely, that wasn't….screaming?

He heard it again, louder, and broke into a run. He reached the top of the stairs just in time to see a middle-aged servant rush into the hall, flapping her hands wildly and screeching at the top of her lungs, so loudly that he couldn't make out any words.

He took the steps quickly, thinking the woman must be waking the dead, but when she spotted him the wails became more distinct.

"Your Majesty! There's been murder, you must come quickly!"

She didn't even give him a chance to reply; she seized his arm and all but dragged him down the hall. He felt his heart stutter when he realized she was taking him to Adeline's room. His steps faltered, but the maid was insistent, lugging him through the door, all the while moaning and sobbing hysterically.

He froze once he crossed the threshold; there was blood on the sheets, the pillow, the rug, the curtains, even a smear of it on the wall. He wished they could tell if it was Adeline's or someone else's, but he noticed the gaping window and his gut clenched.

He turned to the weeping servant, who stood beside him wringing her hands, and grabbed her shoulders, giving them a little shake. She gave a shuddering gasp, peering up at him with big tear-filled eyes.

"I need to you find the other kings and queens. Tell them I sent you and I need them to come here, _quickly_. Go!"

She nodded jerkily before hastening out the door, and he turned to inspect the room, knowing any answers would have to wait for the morning.

One thing was clear: whoever had done this would pay.

/


	13. Chapter 13

_**YOU GUYS WE BROKE 1000 VIEWS ASDFGHJKL. Wow. I am so…humbled, and grateful. If you are reading this, you are one of my favorite people. Just know that. **_

_**Also, a quick word about this chapter: it was a total pain to write. I deleted entire chunks, sometimes keeping them out and sometimes rewriting them until this was produced. I'm still not thrilled with it, but at this point it's as good as it's gonna get.**_

_**Hope you like it anyways. Please review!**_

/

Adeline woke slowly, her head pounding with merciless ferocity against the backs of her eyeballs. Her brain refused to cooperate, almost sending her back into unconsciousness, but a muffled crash and shouting somewhere above her snapped her out of it and she cracked her eyes open.

She could hardly see anything; what little light there was came from a tiny window some ten feet off the floor. As her eyes adjusted they took in the damp stone walls, the filthy earthen floor, and finally came to rest on the ropes that bound her hands, securing them over her head. The rope was fastened to a metal bar somewhere on the ceiling, and she was pulled high enough for her toes to just barely brush the floor.

She tried craning her neck to see behind her, but there was nothing else in the room. As for where she was…well, she didn't have a clue. Judging by the pale light that came in the window, it looked to be about midmorning. She could only guess how long she'd been here.

A low murmur of voices jerked her head to the front again, this time to watch the door creak open. The screeching hinges gave her chill bumps, but she didn't feel the first quiver of fear until she saw who came in her prison.

"Well, missy, this is an odd turn of events, now isn't it?"

_General_ Omri strode through the doorframe, his massive bulk exaggerated by the tight quarters. Adeline's nose filled with his stench; she tasted blood when he reached behind him and closed the door, the dull _thud_ echoing horribly.

For the first time in her life, Adeline was truly, genuinely frightened. She'd been scared before, of course (what woman, standing at less than five feet tall, could face an entire _army_ and not feel the teensiest bit afraid?) but she'd been armed and standing with allies, not bound in a tiny prison with no weapons and no help in sight.

She felt utterly exposed; they'd left her in her nightdress, which she was grateful for. The garment wasn't indecent, really, though the slight V-neck had her wishing for a shawl of some kind. Her arms were bared by the sleeveless design, and the hem hit right below her knees. She was covered, but it didn't make her feel much better.

Still, it wouldn't do for her to lose composure now.

"So, I take it Xaviar is quite determined to have me as his wife?"

Her voice was mild and casual, as though discussing the weather, and Omri's scowl deepened.

"This is no laughing matter, you insolent wench," he snarled "especially if you wish to see daylight again."

"So his plan is to propose, _again_, and do me in if I say no?" Adeline asked, pretending to be impressed. "Ingenious, really, but you may want to save yourselves some time and finish me off now. I'd rather die than marry that traitorous coward."

"You may find yourself more easily persuaded once I'm through with you."

The hidden implications of his words sent fissions of fear up and down her spine, and despite herself she felt her eyes widen.

He had moved closer, and Adeline struggled to control her breathing. That didn't go unnoticed by the man in front of her, and a menacing, amused grin split his face.

"Ah, now, you mustn't be afraid of _me_, missy. It's Lord Xaviar you need to fear."

"That worm isn't worth a moment's thought." Adeline spat, and the next second Omri's hand had closed around her throat, effortlessly lifting her higher off the floor. His other hand drew a long, sickening dagger from his belt and held the blade to the bare skin just above her collarbone.

"Brave words for a caged kitten." He whispered. His hot, acrid breath ghosted across her skin and made the hair on her arms stand on end. Black spots danced across her vision when the fingers on her throat squeezed; she was dimly aware of seeing the dagger move from her neck to behind her.

Suddenly her body arched with white-hot, searing pain, and the hand on her throat released her. She dropped, the ropes preventing her from hitting the floor, but the added pressure on her shoulders only intensified the agony that radiated from the gash on her back. She couldn't see how long or deep it was, but it felt like he'd cut her to the bone.

"I'll leave you now to contemplate His Majesty's offer." Omri said coldly, and a moment later she heard the door shut again, leaving her to study the puddle of red that slowly grew around her feet.

It might have been hours later, or it may have very well been just a few minutes. Adeline drifted in and out of her numb state brought on by the pain. She vaguely noticed that bleeding seemed to have stopped, but her back still felt like it was on fire, the skin and muscle ripped in two.

Her heart sank when the door opened. She strained and lifted her head to watch a soldier slip inside, the visor on his standard armor pulled down over his face. He was tall, and something about the way he moved seemed strangely familiar, but Adeline was too busy fighting the new wave of terror that washed over her as he approached.

"Please…" she couldn't stop the word from escaping her cracked lips. The stranger paused, and she got the impression that he was surprised at her begging.

She didn't care. She only wanted out, before Omri could do much worse than slice her back open. The soldier closed the distance between them, taking a wad of dark cloth from under his arm. He unfurled it, the long mass smoothing out on the floor. He turned and made quick work of her bonds, even going so far as to steady her when her feet touched down.

Adeline staggered; whoever this soldier was, he was clearly going to take her out of the room. He might not be a friend, but at the moment he was certainly the lesser of two evils. She'd play along, then figure out a way to escape him once they'd gotten away from this place.

The man's gentleness surprised her; he led her by the arm to the expanse of dark cloth, and gestured for her to stand still. He took the fabric and proceeded to wrap it around her snugly, imprisoning her in a cocoon. He tucked the end in, and then reached in a pocket and retrieved a dark hood.

His masked face turned to Adeline; almost as if he was studying her, but she'd caught on to his plan by now and raised her chin, wordlessly telling him to continue. The hood was slipped over her head, plunging her into darkness. At least the cloth seemed to be fairly clean.

She felt a rope being tied around her middle before a strong arm wrapped around her knees, and she was bent at the waist over the man's shoulder.

She bit back a moan as the injury on her back was stretched, and focused instead on making every one of her muscles to go limp. She hung like a rag doll, held snugly by her unidentified rescuer and/or captor, and she held her breath as the door creaked open and he moved into the hall.

The number of turns he took was unbelievable; occasionally other soldiers would pass them, and it took great effort for her to keep still. Nobody questioned this strange man, assuming he carried a deceased prisoner over his shoulder. Whoever he was, he'd obviously planned their escape quite thoroughly. Adeline had to hand to him.

She felt the air grow a tad warmer and quite suddenly she heard the song of crickets. She heard another door close softly behind them, and then the soft swish of grass against the man's legs.

Still she kept her act up, and a new smell reached her nose: horse manure. They must be in the stable now, since it was a good deal warmer, and she felt herself being lowered gently to the floor. To her surprise the man didn't untie her, instead helping her sit down on a barrel or crate of some kind, giving a firm shake to her shoulders. She got the message: _stay put_.

So, stay put she did. Once again, she was helpless, and like it or not this stranger was her best chance of escaping. She could heard the jingle of harnesses and the snorting of a horse somewhere nearby, and a few moments later she felt two arms scoop her up, one behind her back and the other tucked under her knees.

She was held against his chest, which felt oddly familiar like the rest of him had, and somehow he managed to mount his horse with her in his arms.

What happened after that was a bit fuzzy, but she felt the cool night air seeping through her cloth prison, and the horse's movements gradually worked up to a fast gallop. They rode for what felt like hours, the man's arms tugging on the reins expertly, but never once letting her slip.

She was held securely against him, and she knew she ought to be scared of her mind, but she wasn't. She felt safe, though she didn't know why.

She felt the horse begin to slow down, and eventually come to a stop. She heard water running somewhere nearby, but the man had already swung out of the saddle, bringing her with him. He walked a few paces and set her down again on what felt like a rock.

Hands gently pulled her hood off, and when she could see again she noticed that he still hid his face. She looked up at him questioningly, and to her astonishment one hand reached to push the metal visor up.

She gasped.

"_Edmund?_"

The dark haired king smiled briefly, before going back to work untying her. All she could do was stare, unable to believe that he was really here.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. He remained silent, loosening the knot of rope that held the fabric tightly around her. Her imagination jumped into action, and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"Aslan's mane, Ed, did they take the others too?"

He paused at that, looking up at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the girls, and Caspian, and Peter. Did they get taken along with us? Did they escape?"

"You were the only one taken, Addie." He told her quietly, checking her freed wrists for rope burns. She tugged out of his grasp, determined to understand.

"If I was the only one taken, then why are you here?"

He contemplated her for a moment, his eyes dark and brooding. She grew uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but after a moment he answered her.

"I came for you."

Adeline blinked. The way he'd said it, almost like it was the obvious answer, and he'd thought she would have figured it out on her own.

"You…you came for me?" she asked, very aware of how vulnerable she sounded.

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I did. Surely you hadn't resigned yourself to death just yet?"

She shook her head, unable to as much as grin at his attempt at humor.

"Eddy, I'm…I'm glad you came. Really. Heaven knows what that cretin was planning to do to me, it's just that-"

She was shocked speechless (again) when he suddenly reached for her, one large hand clamping around her jaw, the other resting on the rock beside her. His touch was unbelievably gentle, but the look in his eyes was fierce, and shook her to the core.

"Adeline." He said, his tone matching his expression, "Did he touch you?"

Her eyes widened, glancing down to see that his free hand was clenched into a fist, turning his knuckles white. She looked at him again, and felt like the breath had been knocked out of her when it occurred to her that he'd been worried. The realization made an odd, warm, tingling sensation spread from within her chest, all the way to tips of her fingers and toes.

She cleared her throat, knowing what his question had meant. Whether or not Omri had planned on violating her, she honestly didn't know. But he hadn't, and for that she was thankful.

"No, he didn't."

Edmund's eyes closed with relief, and to her surprise he leaned into her, resting his forehead gently against hers.

Adeline kept still, finding comfort in this quiet, intimate moment; his hand hadn't left her jaw, and her own eyes slid shut when she felt his thumb start to trace soft circles on her cheek.

"I went out of my mind when Peter called us to your room." He told her softly. "There was _so_ much blood, it was everywhere, and – you're not hurt, are you?" he asked anxiously, pulling back and peering at her from head to toe. Once again she remembered that she only wore the flimsy nightgown, and tried not to blush.

"It wasn't my blood," she reassured him, "though I've got a nasty cut on my back. Omri is horrible at controlling his temper."

Another flash of anger showed in Edmund's eyes, but he was already on his feet, circling behind her and moving aside the fabric she'd been wrapped with. He inhaled sharply when he saw her back; she knew there had to be blood everywhere, but she wanted to know the extent of the damage.

"How long is it?" she queried.

"Here," he said, placing one finger just below her left shoulder blade, "to here." The other hand gently touched the small of her back, towards her right hip. "It doesn't look very deep, but Lucy sent along some salve that fights infection. We'd better use it before we go any further."

She nodded, only to realize something a moment later.

"Erm, Edmund, I-I can't reach. You'll have to do it."

There was an awkward pause before he cleared his throat. "Right, yeah, of course. No problem."

He shifted the black cloth, letting Adeline drape it across her front for modesty. She fought a shiver when the buttons on her dress were undone, though whether her reaction stemmed from the cool night air hitting her bare flesh, or from the warm hands that occasionally came in contact with her back. Deciding not to think about it, she let Edmund hold the black cloth tightly around her throat, grasping it behind her neck. She then reached underneath to slide the dress off her shoulders, and moved the covering so it left her back and shoulders exposed completely.

The cold was definitely getting to her now, and it was a struggle to not let her teeth chatter. She clasped the rough cloth to her bosom, carefully looking straight ahead as Edmund moved her hair over one shoulder, and there was a moment of rummaging in one of the saddlebags before his warm hands were on her back again, this time wiping with a soft cloth.

"Hang on. I need some water; I'll be right back."

He was, and this time she couldn't repress the shudder as the cold water met her skin.

"Sorry." He apologized. "There's another wound, near the top of your shoulders; it's already mostly healed and not very big. Does it hurt any?"

She shook her head. "It's alright," she managed. Fortunately Edmund was done with the cleaning soon, and a tingling, earthy smell wafted to her from behind.

"Lucy used to help the fauns make this," he explained, carefully rubbing it into the larger wound. "They kept it up after we left the second time. It's the next best thing to her cordial."

Adeline didn't know what to say to that; she settled for a nod and tried to stay still to make his job easier. He was surprisingly tender, almost as if he was…honored, to be trusted with this task.

Inwardly she snorted. _All that blood loss is addling your brains, lassie_, she reprimanded herself. As though King Edmund would be even remotely pleased to be in this situation.

_But he's not simply King Edmund,_ argued the insistent voice in the back of her head. _In fact, he's not even Edmund to you, hardly, he's Eddy. You're as familiar with him as you ever were with Gwen._

_That's not unusual, though_, her logical side cut in. _He's easy to talk to. Why should I feel nervous being myself around him? He's my friend._

_Perhaps the better question might be why you __**don't**__ feel uncomfortable having him rub his hands all over your naked back._

_Shut up._

Adeline sighed, unwilling to have that conversation with herself just yet. She focused on the soothing rhythm of Edmund's hands, surprised to find herself fighting slumber.

He must have noticed; a dry chuckle met her ears.

"Just a moment, Addie, till we get you decent again. Then you can sleep while we ride some more."

She jerked awake, her cheeks staining pink, but she didn't get a chance to say anything before he pronounced the job done.

"Now, hold still, we've got to wrap it somehow."

He rummaged a bit in the saddlebag at his feet, and came around in front of her. As he knelt and took a handful of the black cloth she was using to cover herself, she caught a glimpse of a familiar blade in his hand.

"Is that my knife?" she asked, surprised when he nodded. He looked incredibly pleased with himself; he cut a wide strip off of the fabric, making sure it had enough length, and moved behind her again.

"I managed to grab your things right before I left the Cair. Thought you'd want them." She suppressed a smile, but immediately sobered when he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Erm…th-this has to go all the way around, Addie."

She swallowed thickly, telling herself that it couldn't be helped, that if she just got through this and they made it to the Cair, she could avoid him to her heart's content.

Forcing herself to nod, she managed, "Go on and get it over with, then."

Edmund was, unsurprisingly, a perfect gentleman, remaining collected and professional through the whole process of wrapping her naked torso in the scrap of cloth; he'd even stood behind her, allowing Adeline to pull the bandage across her front herself. In short order he'd tied it off in the back, and when she moved to refasten her nightdress, he stopped her.

"I brought a change of clothes for you."

Despite having just endured the most embarrassing ten minutes of her life, Adeline could have hugged him. Her gratitude must have shown on her face, because he grinned and handed her the fresh, tunic, trousers, and boots, and even a cloth sack that contained her hairbrush, clean undergarments and stockings, and a small bar of soap.

"The bath will have to wait, I'm afraid," he told her regretfully, "But it will be a few days before we make it back to the Cair and I had a feeling you'd want to clean up at some point."

His simple statement brought a whole slew of questions to Adeline's mind, but now wasn't the time to quiz him. Instead she headed for the other side of his horse, the large animal screening her while she changed into the clean clothes, and opted for the obvious question: "Where are we?"

Edmund kept his face averted, obviously not wishing to cause her additional discomfort, but his voice didn't sound embarrassed when he answered.

"Two days west of the Dancing Lawn."

Adeline's eyebrows rose. "They didn't get very far, then. How much time has passed?"

"You were taken nearly a week ago. I left the next morning, in order to not lose the trail."

Her movements slowed, and she noticed how his voice had gotten a bit quieter with the last question. She decided to let the interrogation wait for now, and tugged on her boots. The ruined nightdress was stuffed into the sack, which she handed to Edmund as she shook out her hair, letting it fall loose over her shoulders before brushing out the snarls and whipping it into her usual braid.

It took her a moment to notice Edmund was stock still, gaping at her like a fish.

"How did you do that?" he asked. Confused, she wrinkled her brow and tied off her braid, tossing it back over her shoulder and waiting for him to explain.

"That-that thing you do to your hair. You did it so fast, it was like magic. How did you do it?"

For a moment, words failed Adeline. Call her crazy, but she'd never envisioned having a conversation with King Edmund regarding how she braided her hair.

"It…takes practice, I suppose. It's not difficult, and I do it so much I don't really need to think about it anymore."

"Will you teach me?"

Her throat caught. "Beg pardon?"

"Would you teach me how to braid your hair?"

He looked hopeful, excited even. Curse her for going soft, but she couldn't bring herself to say no.

"Er…alright. I'll-I'll show you how sometime."

Edmund grinned again before he turned and finished packing up their things. He mounted with effortless grace, and held a hand out to Adeline to assist her. She hated being so weak, but while the ointment had soothed some of the pain in her back, it was still quite sore, and climbing onto a horse was proving to be a challenge.

"Here." Edmund leaned down, and before she could ask what he was doing, he'd wrapped one long arm around her midsection, lifting her easily and setting her across the saddle in front of him, her side nestled against his chest.

It happened so fast Adeline didn't immediately notice that her hands were locked around Edmund's neck; he turned his head to look at her and she let go as though she'd been burned.

"Erm…thanks. I could probably ride behind you, if it's more comfortable."

He shook his head. "Not yet. You're still a little woozy from the pain. I want you up here so I can catch you if I need to."

She didn't exactly have an argument for that, so she nodded awkwardly as he started the horse forward. After a moment something occurred to her.

"You seem to have done this before."

He glanced down at her, proving her theory when his grip on the reins didn't slacken. He continued to steer the horse through the trees, the presence of an extra body in front of him doing nothing to hamper his movements.

"You mean, riding like this, with someone in front of me?"

She nodded, and his friendly smile turned into his characteristic smirk.

"Well, I have done this before, actually. I took you to Cair Paravel when you were delirious with fever. You were unconscious, so we didn't have much choice."

Adeline had known all of this; still, it was a little jarring to realize that this man had held her unconscious body closely against him for several consecutive hours.

"Oh," was all she could say.

_It's not like you get to complain about it_, she reminded herself. This certainly wasn't the first time Edmund had saved her life, and little voice at the back of her head suggested that it probably wouldn't be the last.

Of course, the fact that his arms and chest were strong and warm was completely, absolutely irrelevant, she told herself as she leaned into him, closing her eyes and letting sleep claim her.

/

Edmund pushed the horse long and hard, stopping only for brief pauses beside the occasional stream so the beast could drink. Then they were off again, riding through the night. There were no clouds, and the half-moon provided more than enough light to ride by.

It wasn't until after four o'clock in the morning that he felt safe; he pulled the horse to an easy walk, confident that any pursuers from Xaviar's castle would have caught them by now. He glanced down at Adeline and smiled. She was out cold again, her forehead resting against the side of his neck.

She shifted in her sleep, her brow furrowing for a second in pain, but a moment later her face was smooth once again. He was struck by how innocent and young she looked like this; he'd never guess she'd seen battles and could best a man twice her size. Here, in this moment, she looked every bit a princess herself.

_Bad idea, Ed, thinking that way_, he reprimanded himself.

The very last thing Adeline needed right now was another man seeking her affections. He'd thought about it long and hard during his days tracking Adeline's kidnappers, and had realized that she was probably still recovering from Xaviar's betrayal. The whole mess went deeper than just murdering her best friend; he and Adeline had had a special sort of relationship, one that could have turned into a serious romantic interest.

Granted, Xaviar had burned _that_ bridge on that fateful night in Tashbaan, and Adeline had made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him, but Edmund couldn't help but wonder if maybe her heart hurt a bit more than she was letting on. It wouldn't have surprised him.

The first grey light of dawn was making its way through the trees when he finally stopped beside a small pond; the spot was well hidden from three sides and would allow them time to rest before hitting the trail again.

He dismounted carefully, and he set Adeline down against a small boulder while he took care of the horse. He'd just unbuckled the saddle when he heard a strange sound, and turned to see Adeline owlishly peer around the clearing. Her eyes focused on him, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Good morning, milady."

She rolled her eyes. "Morning, Eddy."

He couldn't suppress the chuckle; her voice was rough, but still endearing and feminine as it always was, like the sound the wind used to make when it blew through the cherry trees.

Edmund's hand jerked violently from where it rested on the saddlebags.

Blimey, was he infatuated with her _voice_ now?

He shoved the thought aside, pulling out the supplies to fix breakfast, and he'd just started to ask Adeline if she wanted coffee or tea when he glanced up and saw her eyes riveted on a spot just over his shoulder, a look of horror on her face.

He whirled, and came face to face with the tip of an arrow that was immediately lowered to menacingly brush his throat.

"Lady Adeline. It is good to see you once more." A man came forward, staying in Edmund's periphery, but there was no mistaking Adeline's voice when she answered, and Edmund felt his stomach drop to his toes.

"Hello, my lord Tisroc."

/


End file.
